


Hogwartvengers: Year Four

by orphan_account



Series: Hogwartvengers 'Verse [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hogwarts AU, Hogwartvengers - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As their time at Hogwarts continues, the Avengers break some hearts - and some limbs - and get into more trouble than they're worth. Fury begins to regret allowing them into his school</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif is used to the boys being overprotective, and is surprised when Fandral finally agrees to let her wander alone for a while. She doesn’t stay alone for long, however, when she bumps into Loki. He’s far less hostile to her than he is to the rest of their childhood friends.

A lot of the time, Sif didn’t mind being the only girl in their group when growing up. She could do things just as well as the boys could, if not better, and constantly set out to prove it. She could beat them at broom races and quidditch, even wrestling on a good day. She could run just as fast, climb trees just as high, and was smarter than all of those blockheads put together. Her parents were happy with her playing with the boys because she was ‘safe’ and ‘protected’ and she got to avoid having to play dolls and dress-up with all those other insipid little girls her father wished she’d associate with. 

She just wished they weren’t so bloody overprotective all the time; hadn’t she shown she could handle herself? Even now they’d started Hogwarts — the boys a year older than her, to her annoyance; the year at home alone had been hell — the boys were ridiculously protective of her, never letting her walk without at least one of them by her side. Sif and the Warriors Three, they had been called since childhood, and the moniker was only growing more apt as they grew older. Thor, having Loki to deal with, wasn’t quite as much of a part of their tight-knit group as the other three boys, but he was just as protective of her as Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. It was infuriating! The only thing she appreciated about it was that it meant most of the girls tended to leave her alone, intimidated by her friends. She’d never been very good at making friends with girls.

That all began to change when they got older and the other girls started to appreciate the boys’ looks rather than fear their height and build. Sif found herself the object of jealousy by several girls who had crushes on any of the four, and often had to stop people following their group while going about their business, girls trying to get the chance to talk to one of the boys — usually Thor or Fandral — or just stare at them longingly. Sif didn’t understand it; they were the same stubborn, idiot boys they had been a year or two ago, why the sudden fuss? They weren’t even that attractive, in her opinion. Sure, she could see the appeal of Thor and Fandral, but they were too… blonde for her. Volstagg, being a redhead, was equally fair, though a little too broad-shouldered for her tastes. He was built like a brick wall, even at the age of fourteen. Hogun was the only one she could really see as attractive, though in her mind he was still the eager little seven year-old who insisted he could beat her at a swimming race and nearly drowned in his determination to win. 

She sighed to herself as she heard faint giggles from behind a bookshelf, knowing she had Fandral’s fan club on her tail. They usually hung out in the library, waiting for the blonde boy to arrive. “Look, Fandral, I think I’m going to go for a walk,” she declared, shutting her textbook. Her essay was almost finished anyway; she could do the conclusion back in the common room. 

Fandral nodded, automatically closing his own books, despite only being halfway done. “Of course; I shall accompany you.” She rolled her eyes, flipping his book back open.

“No, you shan’t; you still have an essay to finish. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll even stay inside the castle, I promise,” she added teasingly. He frowned, giving her an imploring look.

“But Sif, you know Volstagg will have my head if he finds out I let you wander about alone!” Sif resisted the urge to huff at his words; Volstagg could go hang. 

“Then he doesn’t have to know, does he?” she replied sweetly. “Please, Fandral. I need some space for ten minutes. I’ll be back at Gryffindor before seven, I swear.” It was six forty-five, so a fifteen minute walk would be plenty. Fandral bit his lip, then sighed, nodding and picking up his quill.

“Fifteen minutes,” he told her. “Don’t go outside, and stay in lit corridors. Be careful.” She laughed, leaning down to peck his cheek mostly to annoy his fangirls hiding behind the shelves.

“Yes, Mother,” she teased, earning a swat to the shoulder. “I’ll see you later, good luck with the rest of your essay.” He gave her a wry smile as he looked at his open textbook with an expression of annoyance, and she packed away her things, shouldering her bag and leaving the library. Finally on her own, she walked aimlessly down the corridors, surprised at her own freedom. She had to admit, she could see where the boys were coming from; last time she’d walked around on her own, she’d been hexed by one of Hogun’s fangirls who was jealous of her after being turned down by Hogun several times, assuming Sif was the reason. Still, she was more alert now. She’d be prepared for an attack if it came at her. 

Despite having promised to be back at the tower by seven, Sif headed downwards when she reached the staircase, not quite willing to return to the common room quite so soon. The rest of the boys would be there, as well as half of the house, and she was enjoying the rare solitude. Smiling to herself, she didn’t notice the other person in the corridor until he spoke. “Not trailing any shadows today, my lady?” She didn’t tense, knowing there was only one person who spoke to her in such a way.

“Not today, Loki. Not for now, at least; I managed to persuade Fandral to stay in the library, and the others are back in Gryffindor Tower,” she replied warmly. She didn’t think to tell Loki that Thor was at a tutoring session with Jane Foster; she knew how much Loki disliked the brown-haired Ravenclaw that held his brother’s affections. “What brings you out here, little serpent?” She hoped he wouldn’t take offence to the childhood nickname, though had it been anyone but her, she doubted he’d be so placid. She walked closer to him, stopping when they were only a few feet apart, and his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Nothing but my thoughts, I’m afraid. I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was walking. Not until I saw you, at least,” he told her, hands in the pockets of his robes. It always surprised Sif how little Loki had changed since there were small children; he had always seemed far older than his years. He was, secretly, her favourite of the boys she had grown up with. He’d never treated her like she was inferior or incapable because she was a girl, and had always been polite to her, even when he was making Thor’s life as miserable as he could. And she still hadn’t forgotten the day Loki had found out he was adopted, and she’d found him crying his heart out in Thor’s treehouse. He’d been eight, and she nine, and she hadn’t known how to deal with Loki so very out of sorts.

“Then I hope your thoughts are faring you well,” she replied, smiling. “I haven’t seen you since term began, and you were quiet as a mouse all summer. Are you well?” He shrugged, tucking a lock of hair back behind his ear. 

“I am as well as I always am, Lady Sif,” he assured her wryly. It wasn’t comforting. “And yourself?”

“As well as I can be with every footstep trailed by the four musketeers,” she joked, making him chuckle. “I do love them, but they’re rather stifling at times. It’s nice to have the time to myself for a change.”

“If I’m imposing, I can leave,” Loki told her, already beginning to turn away, but she grabbed his shoulder gently to stop him, wishing he didn’t flinch. 

“You’re never an imposition, little serpent. Though I fear the boys will go mad with worry if I’m not back to the tower soon. It will surely calm them if they were to know a valiant warrior walked me back, would it not?” she pointed out with a grin, offering an arm pointedly to the Slytherin. He hesitated, as he always did when she tried to joke around with him, but eventually looped his arm through hers, offering a tentative grin.

“I can’t promise a valiant warrior, but I’m sure I can escort you back home safely. Shall we?” Sif smiled, falling easily into step beside the dark-haired boy. 

“Thor misses you, you know,” she told him conversationally. “He’s so dreadfully confused about what he’s done to offend you. He only wants you to love him as a brother.” Loki’s face hardened, and his lips curled into a sneer.

“Yes, well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?” he retorted. “Please, Lady Sif… can we not talk about Thor?” She sighed, but nodded.

“If you wish. Though I remind you, Loki, you cannot avoid him forever.” He chuckled, though there was no humour in the sound.

“That may be true, but I can at least try,” he pointed out, pausing before giving her a faintly amused look. “I’ll admit, I’ve never understood why you put up with him. He’s hardly stimulating company.” She shrugged, hitching her bag further up her shoulder.

“He’s stimulating company enough. Intelligence isn’t everything, and Thor can be fairly insightful when the mood strikes him. You just have to give him a chance and wait a little time for the thoughts to form,” she added playfully, drawing a laugh from her younger companion.

“Yes, well, patience is one thing I lack when it comes to Thor,” he replied dryly. Sif merely hummed, hiding her smile; she knew how much Loki truly loved Thor, he couldn’t hide it from her. She’d held him while he’d cried about the possibility of Thor not loving him because they weren’t blood related.

They stopped outside the portrait to Gryffindor Tower, and Loki slipped his arm from hers, offering a short bow. “I believe my escorting duties have been completed,” he told her, his tone reminding her of when they were younger and she’d been able to drag all of the boys into a make-believe game in which they were lords and ladies, and mighty warriors slaying beasts from far off lands to save their people. 

“My thanks to you, little serpent,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek, grinning when he didn’t push her away. She usually had to catch him in a very good mood for him to allow her to get so close. His cheeks were faintly pink, and his green eyes darted up and down the corridor to check if anyone had seen. “You’d better get back down to the dungeons before curfew,” she added, glancing at her watch. She didn’t want the Gryffindors to start coming back to the tower for the night and find a Slytherin in ‘their’ territory. While most would leave him alone, there were some who wouldn’t be quite so courteous. 

“Indeed,” he agreed, stepping back. “Goodnight, my lady.”

“Goodnight, little serpent. May it not be such a long time before we next speak,” she added with a pointed look, drawing a sheepish expression to his face. “I understand not wanting to talk to the boys, but please stop avoiding me.”

“I… I shall try, Lady Sif, but when the boys are constantly by your side, it’s difficult,” he reasoned. She grinned impishly, smoothing down her cardigan.

“Then I shall have to endeavour to escape them more often,” she replied innocently, making him smirk faintly. She turned to the portrait, offering a smile to the Fat Lady. “Dignitas ab virtus,” she said clearly, not caring that Loki was close enough to hear her. She doubted he’d abuse the knowledge of the password. The Fat Lady swung open, and Sif turned back to give Loki a grin. He nodded in reply, already turning to leave, and she slipped inside the common room, wincing at Volstagg’s exclamation upon seeing her.

“There you are, Sif!” he cried, rushing over to her. Fandral was already there, an annoyed expression on his face. Guilt churned in her stomach when she imagined the yelling Volstagg must have done when Fandral had returned to Gryffindor alone. “Where on earth have you been? You shouldn’t have been wandering about on your own!” She rolled her eyes, huffing.

“I was perfectly fine, thank you, Volstagg. This is a school, not a battlefield or a marketplace. I’m hardly likely to get killed or kidnapped,” she pointed out shortly. “Besides, I wasn’t alone for most of my walk. I was with Loki, he escorted me back to the tower.” Volstagg’s eyebrows rose, and Thor gained an eager expression upon hearing her words as she moved to join them by the fireplace.

“You were with my brother? How is he?” he asked, and Sif held back her sad smile. Thor yearned for Loki’s love so much it was painful to watch sometimes.

“He is well, so he says. And he did seem fine; fairly cheerful by his standards, to be honest,” she assured, watching Thor’s smile brighten. She took the seat next to Fandral, who scowled at her.

“Back by seven, hmm?” he said pointedly, glancing at the clock which clearly read seven ten. She smiled sweetly, setting her bag down on the floor.

“Fandral, my dear, you should know better by now than to believe me about things like that,” she returned. He stared at her for several moments, then chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you off this time, as you were with Loki. But next time, when you say back by seven, I expect you to uphold your promise,” he added sternly, making her roll her eyes even as she agreed. It was the least she could do, really; they only meant well. Even if they were a little overbearing at times.


	2. Can't Catch a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Steve finds himself attracted to someone who could never like him back. Except this time it's worse, because that someone is his male best friend.

Steve wasn't used to feeling like this. Sure, he'd had his fair share of _those_ kind of dreams ever since puberty had really started, but he'd never had them so often, or constantly about the same person. And he'd never had the feelings during waking hours, either.

He'd been looking forward to the summer after his second year at Hogwarts; he and Bucky had all sorts of plans, and he couldn't wait to spend time with just Bucky, like they used to before Hogwarts. Sure, he saw Bucky a lot at school, but… he was on the quidditch team, and popular, and had more people to split his time between than just Steve. And Steve sort-of had friends, too; he had Peggy, and Thor, and Sif and the three boys. But summer meant one thing and one thing only; him and Bucky hanging out for a whole eight weeks.

That would have been great, had Steve's damn hormones not decided to flare their head. He hadn't even noticed it happening until he'd been swimming with Bucky and the sight of his friend in nothing but swim shorts had made him feel all funny in the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling that he was becoming increasingly familiar with as he got older, but he'd never had it happen with one of his friends before. It hadn't even happened with Peggy! He'd turned away and ducked under the water before Bucky could notice the tenting in his shorts, cheeks bright red and practically hyperventilating with panic. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be getting attracted to _Bucky_ of all people! He was his best friend!

Figuring it was just puberty messing him up, Steve ignored it… until it happened again when they were changing for bed during a sleepover at Bucky's house. Even at the age of thirteen, Bucky was tall and as well-muscled as any fifteen or sixteen year-old, and Steve definitely noticed. He'd waited until he got home to have the whole 'oh sweet Merlin I'm attracted to guys' freak-out, which involved locking himself in the bathroom for three hours and having a minor panic attack and trying not to cry. By the end of the three hours, he knew two things; one, he was definitely attracted to guys; two, he could _not_ let Bucky find out. He'd had lots of practice pushing feelings away when he'd had that crush on Peggy, but this was just so very different; there hadn't been any physical signs of his feelings for Peggy. That was definitely not the case with Bucky.

Steve was just glad that it was already halfway through the summer; he could last four weeks, and then they'd be back at Hogwarts, and hopefully his attention would shift to someone else. Thor, maybe; he was attractive, and definitely safe, with his ridiculously huge crush on Jane Foster. And even if he did notice, he probably wouldn't be offended or freaked out. It took a lot to freak out Thor.

Or maybe he'd even find a girl who would inspire those feelings in him. At least then people wouldn't think him weird for it. Crushing on girls was totally normal and not-weird and then he could talk to Bucky about it without worrying his friend would disown him. The problem with only having one close male friend was that when things _involved_ that one male friend, he didn't really have anyone to go to. That might change when he got back to Hogwarts; there had to be someone who wouldn't judge him for what he was feeling. Thor, maybe, or even Tony. The rumours about him and Bruce Banner were all over the place, so he doubted Tony had a problem with that sort of thing. All Steve had to do was make sure Bucky didn't find out for the next four weeks.

.-.

Their first week back at Hogwarts, and Steve's secret was still safe. Bucky had absolutely no idea about the thoughts his best friend was having about him, and Steve was sure he could get over it now he was surrounded by others. Still, he was driving himself insane trying to keep it to himself; he had to tell _someone_. And that's how he found himself practically stalking Tony Stark to try and get him alone for five minutes. Not his finest moment, Steve would admit.

It took him a week before he finally found Tony in the library on his own, though Steve didn't know why Bruce wasn't around. Usually the quiet Ravenclaw boy practically lived in the library, especially when Tony was there. Steve wasn't going to complain, though. He slid into the chair opposite the Stark heir, clearing his throat to get the older boy to look up. "Well hello there, blondie. Aren't you lions like, allergic to libraries or something?" Steve rolled his eyes, nerves twisting in his stomach.

"Can I, uh, talk to you? Privately," he asked, biting his lip. Tony's eyes darkened in concern, his expression growing serious.

"Yeah, sure. Come on." Instead of leading Steve out of the library like he'd expected, Tony led him deeper, to a dusty corner that looked like it hadn't been visited in decades. Tony waved his wand, muttering privacy charms and turning to Steve with a smile. "No one ever comes back here, and even if they did, they're not getting through those wards. So what's the problem?" Steve swallowed anxiously, leaning back against a dusty shelf.

"I, uh, oh Merlin this is hard." Tony reached over, squeezing his hand briefly.

"I can guarantee that whatever it is you need to tell me, I have heard worse. Go for it, soldier." Steve blinked at the nickname; only Bucky had called him that before. Thinking his friend's name reminded him of his problem, and Steve felt his cheeks turn bright red.

"IhavefeelingsforBucky," he blurted out, the words all mashing together as he tripped over his tongue to get them out. Tony blinked, processing the word-vomit.

"Is that it?" he asked blankly, eyebrows raised. "Wow, I thought you'd like, killed a guy or something. So you have a crush on your friend, big deal. He's hot, it's understandable." Steve squeaked in alarm, feeling himself go even redder.

"Of course it's a big deal! He's… Bucky, and he's a guy," Steve whispered, feeling ashamed for just admitting it. Tony's frown returned, and he leaned closer, taking Steve's hand once more.

"Steve, there's nothing wrong with liking guys. Sure, some people are assholes who say it's wrong, but they don't have two brain cells to rub together. You like who you like; guys, girls, it doesn't matter. And never, ever let anyone tell you that it does, okay?" His eyes bored into Steve's, and the blonde swallowed reflexively.

But-"

"No buts," Tony said, cutting him off. "Unless they're the naked kind. Anyone who tells you you're not allowed to like people because they're the same gender as you is not someone you want to model your life choices on. You like Bucky? Great. You jump on that boy and climb him like a tree. Someone has a problem with it, you send them my way." Steve didn't think it was possible for him to blush any more than he was without his head exploding, but the words 'climb him like a tree' echoed around his head, complete with mental image.

"But what if Bucky _is_ one of those people who has a problem with it?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper as he voiced his biggest fear. What if Bucky found out and hated him for it?

"Then he's not worth your time," Tony replied instantly. "But I don't think he will be. I may not get on with him too great, but he's not a total jerkface. Even if he doesn't feel the same way, I'm sure he'll let you down gently." Steve let out a long, shaky breath. He could handle being let down gently. He didn't think he could handle Bucky hating him forever. "C'mon, Steve; you're a Gryffindor, aren't you? Be brave. Tell him." Steve sighed, shrugging.

"I'll think about it. But, uh, thanks. For telling me it's okay."

"It is okay," Tony replied simply. "I'm going to hug you now, because you look like you need a hug and Bruce says it's rude not to hug people when they look like they need it." Steve laughed, arms slipping around Tony's waist as the genius enveloped him in a tight hug. "You like whoever the hell you wanna like, and don't let anyone give you shit for it. I'll kick their asses if they do, just you watch."

"Thanks, Tony. Knew I could count on you." Steve was embarrassed to feel a slight lump in his throat, and resolutely swallowed it back.

"Why did you ask me, anyway? I mean, surely there are other people you could've gone to about it?" Tony queried, sounding perplexed. Steve shrugged, head resting on Tony's chest.

"I just figured you'd be the least likely to judge me. You're, y'know… you," he finished lamely, not sure how to explain it. Tony snorted.

"Yes, funnily enough, I am me. But I am also very non-judge-y. Because that's totally a word and everything." Tony paused, shifting slightly. "How long do these hugs usually last? 'Cause, I mean, this has gone past pleasant and is verging on uncomfortably awkward." Steve flushed, pulling back, and Tony offered him a grin. "You cool now?" he checked, the concern genuine despite his teasing tone. Steve nodded, giving a small smile, and Tony's grin widened. "Cool. Good luck with the whole Bucky situation, and if you need anymore worldly advice you just call me. Wait, do you have a phone?" Steve shook his head; while the new Starkphones were now magic-safe, he couldn't afford one. "I'll get you one. On me, it's no big deal." Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Tony stuck a hand over it before he could say anything. "Steve, I literally make Starkphones for fun. It's not a problem; I have like, ten in my room. I need to get rid of them, you're doing me a favour. I'll give it to you tomorrow, or have Pepper drop it off with you, or something. Do not argue with me." Steve sighed, though he was smiling.

"Sure, Tony. I'll take the phone," he relented, and the Ravenclaw smirked smugly.

"Excellent. Now it's like, ten minutes until dinner, and Bruce will kill me if I skip dinner while he's not around, so let's go." Tony's arm slung around Steve's shoulders, and Steve smiled slightly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Maybe he would actually tell Bucky.

.-.-.

It turned out he didn't need to tell Bucky himself. Apparently, he was pretty damn obvious.

"Hey, Steve?" Bucky called, looking up from his bed in their shared room.

"Yeah, what is it Buck?" Steve asked, used to how his stomach fluttered when the other boy's eyes were on him.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Bucky's tone was casual, though there was a slight smirk tugging at his lips. Steve froze, eyes going wide.

"Uh, no, I didn't know that. I say anything good?" he asked, trying and failing to mimic his friend's conversational tone. Bucky's smirk widened.

"Well, I don't know if it's good, but you certainly seem to be having fun," he retorted knowingly, and Steve felt his cheeks heat rapidly. "And the funny thing is, my name seems to come up a _lot_. It's not the only thing coming up, either." Steve ducked his head, heartbeat racing and breathing growing quicker.

"Bucky, I can explain," he began, panicked. Bucky winked at him, looking amused.

"I'd say it's pretty self-explanatory," he pointed out. Steve groaned, fingers tugging at his hair.

"I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know how to stop it, I get it if you want me to switch dorms or something. I'm really sorry, Buck," he babbled frantically, not noticing when Bucky hopped off his own bed and crawled onto Steve's, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Whoa, hey, Steve, chill. I was just teasing," he insisted, squeezing briefly. "I get that you have no control over it; no one can control that. And hey, I'm really flattered and all, but… I just don't swing that way, soldier." He sounded genuinely apologetic, and Steve tried to calm his breathing enough to look his friend in the eye without wanting to puke.

"I know, I know, I wasn't expecting you to. I'll get over it soon, I promise." Bucky chuckled, cheek pressing briefly to Steve's hair.

"Oh no, you go on right ahead; good for a guy's ego, y'know?" he joked, and Steve instinctively elbowed him in the gut with a snort.

"Jerk," he muttered, smiling.

"You know it," Bucky replied proudly. "Seriously, Steve; I don't mind. I'm sorry I can't feel the same, and I hope next time you like someone it's someone who can like you back. Guy or girl." Steve looked up, eyes wide, and Bucky grinned at him. "You think I'd care about a stupid thing like that? Man, I'll be so damn proud if you actually get a date, I don't care if they're a freaking centaur." Steve grimaced at the thought, making Bucky laugh.

"I think I'll pass on the centaurs," the blonde assured. "And don't be sorry; I don't blame you for not feeling the same. I mean, who'd want a scrawny little kid like me, anyway?" he mused with a wry chuckle. Bucky frowned, giving Steve a disapproving stare.

"You know I hate when you put yourself down. Plenty of people would want you; you're funny, and honest, and ridiculously caring, and some people find the whole scrawny thing cute. Don't knock yourself out before you've even started the game, soldier," he urged, forehead almost pressed to Steve's. The smaller boy didn't know what came over him; one minute he was just sat there staring at Bucky, the next he felt himself leaning in to kiss his friend. Bucky pushed him back, shaking his head. "You don't wanna do that, Steve."

"Shit, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I shouldn't have-" he trailed off, trying to escape from Bucky's embrace, but the other boy was stronger and wouldn't let him go.

"I didn't mean it like that," Bucky insisted. "But Steve, look; this crush on me? It'll pass. You'll find someone else, someone who actually likes you back, and you'll laugh when you remember how you used to like me like that. Save your first kiss for that person, yeah? I don't deserve it; it should go to someone you really care about." Steve sighed, slumping against Bucky's chest. He had to admit, his friend had a point. He just hoped his feelings passed sooner rather than later.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Look, Buck, I think I'm just gonna go to bed," he started, and Bucky nodded, releasing him.

"Sure thing." He got off the bed, looking Steve in the eye. "I love you, man. No matter what. But… not in that way." Steve nodded, unsure how to reply, and Bucky went back to his own bed. Steve pulled the drapes, settling back against his pillow and letting out a long breath. Part of him wanted to cry, but a bigger part of him was just relieved. Bucky was right; his crush would fade, and he'd find someone else, and they'd be fine. But at least now he knew that if that someone else happened to be a guy, Bucky was still right there behind him one hundred percent. And that was far more important than any kiss could ever be.


	3. Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wants nothing more than to get Coulson to notice he exists. Natasha recruits help, which turns out to be completely unnecessary; Clint had Coulson’s attention from the start.

Clint sighed as he tried to stare without being noticed, eyes peeking over the top of his book at the occupied armchair in the corner. Coulson seemed fully engrossed in his homework, bottom lip between his teeth as he scribbled furiously, an intense look of concentration on his face. Clint wanted to swoon.

The monster crush on Coulson had crept up on Clint so slowly he’d barely noticed. It had probably started the day Coulson had found him in the rafters and frog-marched him down to the kitchens to make sure he ate enough dinner. Since then, they hadn’t really talked or anything, but Coulson would smirk at him when they passed each other in the corridors, and every now and then Clint noticed the older boy coming to the owlery without a letter, merely to check Clint was okay. Clint had found himself appreciating the little moments, missing Coulson when summer came and he no longer saw the other Hufflepuff on a regular basis. The first time he’d dreamt about kissing Coulson had come out of nowhere with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and had become almost a nightly thing in several variations. Clint had spent most of the summer trying to think of anything to get his mind off Coulson, hooking up with a couple of girls and guys who came to see the circus act, but he never got very far. He chickened out fairly early, or murmured the wrong name and got a slap in the face. Then he’d come back for his third year, and Coulson had given him that smirk-smile, and Clint knew he was screwed.

He didn’t expect his infatuation — for that was definitely what it was — to actually get anywhere, what with Coulson being older and smarter and better looking and generally way out of his league, but he could still live in hope. The urge to show off was almost overwhelming, but Clint shoved it aside, knowing nothing he could do would get Coulson’s attention. He was a troublemaker of average intelligence and similar magical ability; Coulson was beating Ravenclaws in exams in every one of his classes, had never had a detention, and casually used wordless magic despite only being a fourth year. The only impressive thing about Clint was his aim and his flexibility, and he couldn’t see a situation in which that would grab Coulson’s attention. 

Letting out another sigh, Clint gave up on pretending to read and set his book aside, doing an unnecessary backwards roll to get smoothly onto his feet. Natasha was usually pretty good at cheering him up after he got in one of his ‘Coulson moods’, as his redheaded friend liked to call them. He didn’t complain, and wisely didn’t mention the moon-eyes Tasha got whenever she saw Pepper Potts around the halls. Not when he knew how many knives she kept on her person. Slipping out of the common room, Clint took to the side-halls and secret passages almost on instinct, not wanting to catch the evening rush of students getting back before curfew. He smiled to himself as he crawled into the air vent that would lead him to the Slytherin common room; he’d found it the first week of the school year, but hadn’t had the chance to surprise Tasha with it. He was in the mood for getting one-up on the Slytherin girl. 

Commando-crawling through the narrow stone tunnel, Clint smiled when he saw through the grate just above the corner of the common room. He could see Natasha sat on a black leather couch with a book on her lap, only a few feet from where the vent came out. With a whispered spell, the grate came loose, and Clint dropped down into the common room with ease. Several people looked up in alarm, but most of them seemed to relax when they saw it was him. Most people in the school were used to Clint Barton popping out of nowhere by now. “How the hell did you even get in here?” Natasha asked, not looking up from her book. Clint threw himself down on the other end of the couch, stretching out.

“Air vent,” he replied simply. Her brow furrowed.

“I didn’t think we had air vents,” she mused, making him grin.

“You’re several floors below ground, of course you have air vents. You busy?” he asked, glancing at her book. She shook her head, bookmarking her place and setting the text aside, and with a quick wave of her wand a privacy spell had been erected. 

“What’s the problem?” she asked, and he huffed, pulling a practice snitch from his pocket and letting it float around his head, catching it occasionally when it looked to be making a break for it. 

“I wanna get Coulson to notice me,” he whined, hating how much he sounded like a girl. “How the hell do I do that, Nat?” She sighed, reaching over to squeeze his calf gently.

“I was waiting for you to ask me that. Come on, I have a plan.” She pulled Clint to his feet, and the rest of the common room went back to whatever they were doing as the two third years slipped from the room, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn't be intruded on again that evening.

“Will I like this plan?” Clint asked dubiously, making Natasha grin.

“Probably not, but it’s foolproof,” she insisted, practically jogging. Clint followed obediently, trying to figure out where they were going. His eyebrows rose when they came to a halt outside the Ravenclaw common room, and Nat knocked sharply on the statue guardian’s right shoulder six times in quick succession. Confused, Clint opened his mouth, only to close it again when the statue moved aside and a girl Clint vaguely recognised but couldn’t place the name of stuck her head out. 

“Can I help you?” she asked politely, and Natasha offered her a smile.

“Hi, Jane. Is Tony around? We have a problem that needs his expertise,” she explained. Jane nodded, glancing back over her shoulder. 

“Hey, Tony! Romanoff and Barton need your help with something!” she called. There was a pause, before Tony Stark appeared at Jane’s side.

“Well, well, what can I do for you two? Bruce is coming, by the way,” he added, leaving the common room and dragging Bruce Banner along by the hand. Clint scowled; he didn’t know how he felt about Stark and Banner knowing about his crush. But he trusted Tasha, so he’d see what she had planned.

“Perfect. Come on, we need a little privacy,” Natasha urged, directing them to an empty classroom.

“So, what’s the problem?” Tony queried, hopping up onto the desk. “In need of a potion? Spell research? Need the student files hacked?”

“Tony!” Bruce scolded, making Tony roll his eyes.

“Come on, sugarlips, what’s the good in Hogwarts finally switching over to tech if I can’t hack them? I _invented_ that damn technology!” he exclaimed. Natasha coughed, drawing attention back to her and Clint. 

“Nothing quite so complicated,” she assured. “Clint needs to nerd up.” Clint’s eyes went wide, and he turned to his best friend.

“ _That’s_ your master plan? You’re right, I don’t like it,” he told her, annoyed. He didn’t want to have to hit the books, and he doubted he’d ever get smart enough for Coulson to notice him. 

“And why does baby hawk here need booksmarts?” Tony queried, looking perplexed. Clint glared at Natasha, his cheeks already going red.

“He wants Coulson to notice him,” the redhead said plainly. Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Coulson? Seriously? You wanna put your stick up the ass of Mr Stick-Up-His-Ass?”

“Don’t call him that,” Clint snapped, turning his glare on Tony. “And don’t phrase it that way. I just… I just want him to know I exist,” he confessed pathetically. 

“We can help,” Bruce assured softly, offering Clint a small smile before Tony could interrupt with any more snide remarks. “But you have to be willing to put the effort in.”

“I will,” Clint promised. “If you think it’ll work.” And even if it didn’t, it was worth a shot. 

“I’m sure it will,” Tony said optimistically. “Having spent four years in classes with dear old Phil, I can tell you nothing gets that little badger brain of his hornier than a perfect score on a test. If you want him to notice you, studying is probably the best way to go. Unless, of course, you want to go down the teasing and seduction route, in which case I can also help out.” Clint flushed at the thought of attempting to seduce Coulson; he’d probably only make an ass of himself.

“Uh, no thanks. Studying works,” he assured quickly. Tony smirked, but pulled a tablet from his pocket. The little devices were becoming ever more popular since Stark Industries had started mass-producing over the summer, though Clint didn’t doubt Tony’s was far more complicated than any of the ones circulating the student population. 

“Pepper should still have all my third year notes archived somewhere; I’ll have her send you them. And I can do a study session tomorrow after dinner until eight,” the billionaire offered. Clint nodded; he never had anything planned after dinner, especially not on Thursdays. Tony tapped at his screen a few times, then looked up with a grin. “Perfect, I’ll meet you in the library at six then.”

“We’ll meet you in the library,” Bruce corrected, shooting Tony a sideways look before smiling at Clint. “I wouldn’t trust him on his own if I were you.”

“Honeybear, you wound me,” Tony pouted, though Bruce merely rolled his eyes.

“Awesome. Uh, thanks, guys,” Clint added somewhat awkwardly. “I really appreciate this.” Tony grinned, jumping off the desk to come and ruffle Clint’s hair.

“Not a problem, baby hawk. I’m all for spreading the love, even if it does involve Captain Uptight. And who knows; maybe getting a little love could get him to loosen up some,” he added with a leer, turning Clint’s cheeks bright red. He was already regretting his decision to accept their help.

.-.-.

Study sessions led by Tony Stark were, in one word, hard. Clint could barely make heads nor tails of the notes Pepper had given him, and even when Tony had attempted to explain them, it had only ended up with the genius getting frustrated because Clint just _didn’t understand_. Bruce helped a lot, being able to put things in terms Clint was familiar with, but it was still tough going. His grades were rocketing, and Clint was surprised at just how high he could achieve when he actually put the effort in. Still, Coulson didn’t seem to notice him. Clint wondered what higher power he’d pissed off in order to deserve having the guy he was head over heels for be barely aware of his existence. 

He stopped hanging out at the owlery, spending more and more of his free time in the library, either on his own or with Bruce, Tony or Pepper. Even Natasha helped out some; she was brilliant at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and pretty decent at Runes and Charms. Pepper was the only one willing to go through History of Magic with him; the rest of his little study group had written it off as too torturous to even consider. Another upside of their deal was Clint getting to hang out more with the kids in the year above. Other than Natasha, he was kind-of a loner in his year. Even Rhodey, who had been his roommate for over two years, didn’t really speak to him until he started joining in on their little study sessions on Tony’s insistence. It ended up becoming a huge operation, with Tony and Bruce roping Jane into their efforts, which then brought Thor trailing along like a large puppy. Clint liked the big blonde guy a lot, and he was the one person in the group who didn’t make him feel like an idiot. Jane brought Darcy along sometimes too, claiming it would be good for her to get a head start on the third year work. Darcy just wanted the opportunity to hang around with hot older guys. Clint didn’t mind; he’d seen the other Hufflepuff around the common room, and heard of her legendary taser spell, but hadn’t spoken to her. She was hilarious, with a sense of humour very similar to Clint’s own. 

Clint was still hopelessly awkward around Coulson, though, despite Tony taking it upon himself to add ‘flirting’ to the list of topics they needed to cover. Clint repeatedly pointed out that in order to flirt with the older Hufflepuff, he’d have to talk to him first, and that just didn’t happen. Tony very nearly declared him a lost cause, before Pepper took over with a far less blatant approach that sat a lot better with Clint. Not that he put any of it into practice. 

Their study sessions had been happening regularly for a little over three weeks, with no results. Not the ones Clint wanted, at least; his teachers had never been happier. It was a Friday, which meant Tony and Bruce were doing their Science Bros thing, and everyone else had declared it a night off. Except Clint, of course. He was sat in the Hufflepuff common room well past curfew, the only one still around and several books spread open on the table in front of him, a long roll of parchment already covered in his chicken-scratch handwriting. He’d hit a mental block, and it was giving him a headache.

“You look like you could use some help with that.” Clint jumped at the noise, head snapping up. His cheeks immediately flooded with heat; Coulson was leaning in the doorway to the boys’ dorms, dressed in loose jeans and a white t-shirt that was very flattering on him. He was barefoot, and his hair was slightly mussed, making Clint wonder if he’d just woken up. “It’s nearly midnight, what are you still doing up?”

“Just finishing off these notes, but… I just don’t get this part,” Clint admitted somewhat reluctantly. Coulson pushed off the doorframe and wandered over, leaning over Clint’s shoulder with one hand on the desk. Clint could smell the older boy’s cologne, and his skin began to tingle. 

“I’m not surprised; this is fourth year stuff,” Coulson pointed out. Clint shrugged, trying to put a little distance between them.

“I, uh, just wanted to get ahead, y’know?” he explained feebly. Coulson straightened up, folding his arms over his chest.

“Wanna try that again?” he offered, making Clint sigh. Coulson’s lips twitched in a slight smile, and he met Clint’s gaze evenly. “According to the rumour mill — which we both know can be horribly inaccurate — you’re bumping your grades up to try and get my attention.” Clint swallowed, his mouth going dry. How the hell had that gotten out? Everyone in their little study group had been sworn to secrecy! “Any truth to that?”

“There, uh, might be,” Clint stuttered, not seeing any point in denying it. Coulson wouldn’t be asking unless he knew the answer.

“I have to say, that’s the strangest way anyone’s ever tried to tell me they like me,” the older teen mused, voice not giving anything away. Clint could feel his pulse racing, and automatically started looking around for escape routes. “I’m flattered. Though I figured you were more observant than that.” 

“What do you mean?” Clint asked softly, confused. Coulson’s smile widened slightly. 

“Just because you didn’t notice me giving it to you, doesn’t mean you haven’t had my attention,” he informed the younger Hufflepuff. Clint’s eyes widened. “I’ve been worried about you, y’know. Haven’t found you up in the owlery for weeks now.”

“I was studying,” Clint replied automatically. Coulson nodded a fraction.

“I noticed. I’m very impressed with your dedication, though you really shouldn’t stress yourself out over it. You’ve had my attention for a long time, Clint Barton. I’m just more subtle than you are.” There was something in his smile that told Clint he _knew_ , and the archer hung his head, tugging at his fringe.

“You noticed me staring, huh?” he presumed wryly.

“I notice everything,” Coulson told him. Clint sighed, jolting when a hand rested on his shoulder. “Stop looking like I kicked your puppy, Hawkeye. You’re more dense than I thought you were.” Coulson’s grip tightened, and he pulled Clint up out of his chair. They were almost nose-to-nose, Coulson a few inches taller than Clint. “You wanted me to notice you,” he murmured. “Yet you didn’t notice when I was. I’m taking a different approach.” Before Clint could say anything, Coulson’s lips pressed against his, and he froze in shock. It took him a couple of moments to start kissing back, but he melted when Coulson’s hand pressed gently against the back of his neck, his other arm winding around the third year’s waist. Clint could hardly believe it; _he was kissing Phil Coulson_. And damn, the guy could kiss. 

He was breathless when they parted, and resisted the urge to pinch himself. “ _Why?_ ” he breathed, bewildered. Why the hell would Coulson go for a little brat like him? Coulson smirked lightly, hold on Clint still firm.

“You’re interesting, Barton. I like that.” Clint tried valiantly not to gape, wondering how on Earth Coulson could find him interesting.

“Call me Clint,” he insisted instead, making Coulson smirk.

“Only if you call me Phil.” He leaned in, pressing another short kiss to Clint’s lips. “Now, if I were you, I’d give up on that work and go to bed. You’re coming to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow, you’ll need your sleep. Also, you might want to hex Stark in some very uncomfortable places; he’s been teasing me for having a crush on you since last year,” he admitted. Clint blinked, then scowled.

“He made me go through all that when he knew you liked me? Bastard, I’ll kill him!” he exclaimed, and Coulson chuckled.

“Kill him on Sunday; tomorrow, Hogsmeade, I’ll meet you here at ten. Dress pretty,” he added teasingly, and Clint automatically jabbed him in the gut, impressed at the boy’s rock-solid abs. Yeah, killing Stark could totally wait a day or two.

“It’s a date.”


	4. Best Served Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks of keeping Tony on edge, Clint gets his revenge, and Steve gets to return a favour.

Clint smirked to himself as he watched Tony Stark walking alone through the corridors, babbling a mile a minute to his tablet. JARVIS, he liked to call it. Clint thought it stood for something, but couldn’t quite remember what. More importantly, there was no one else in sight. Smirk widening, Clint swung to the next rafter as silent as a shadow, and pulled his wand from his wrist holster. “Caw caw, mugglefucker.”

.-.-.

“Hello? Is anybody there? Bruce! Pepper! Rhodey, anybody!?” Tony was starting to get a headache, and he couldn’t completely feel his feet anymore. He was going to murder Barton. It had to be him; no one else would have tarred and feathered him, then hung him from the rafters in a little-used corridor. Stupid bird-brain. “Seriously, is anyone there? Barton, this isn’t funny anymore! Get me down from here you asshole!” No response. Tony sighed; he would’ve been perfectly capable of getting himself down, but Clint had tied his hands behind his back. “Goddamn it, Barton!”

“Need some help there?” He looked down, letting out a relieved noise when he saw Steve Rogers stood at the end of the corridor, eyeing him perplexedly. 

“Steve! Thank Merlin you’re here! Long story short, Clint Barton’s a jerk, and could you please pretty please get me down?” Steve’s blonde eyebrows shot up, and he rushed closer.

“Tony? Is that you? Merlin, what happened?” he asked, eyes wide as he stared at Tony.

“Like I said, Barton’s a jerk. Now, not to rush you or anything, blondie, but… I can’t feel my feet, and I’d quite like to get down now.” Steve nodded, fumbling for his wand and aiming a hasty ‘finite incantatem’ at Tony. Which, of course, meant that his return to the ground was swifter and more painful than he’d hoped. But at least he wasn’t covered in as many feathers as before. “Ow,” he groaned, and Steve lurched forward to help him to his feet.

“Oh, hell, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be that abrupt, I’m sorry,” he stuttered, and Tony offered him a slightly pained smile, rolling his shoulders with a crack. 

“It’s fine, you did what I asked,” he pointed out. Turning around, he thrust his still-tied hands towards the younger boy. “Untie me, please?” Steve smirked, giving him a look.

“What, you don’t like being tied up?” Tony gaped, shocked. Had that innuendo really just come out of the mouth of innocent, wholesome Steve Rogers?

“I don’t know who’s been corrupting you, but I like it,” he declared, making Steve laugh as he set to work on the ropes binding Tony’s wrists.

“No one’s been corrupting me. I just picked up a few things from being around, y’know?” He let the rope fall to the floor, and Tony stretched out his arms with a groan of pleasure. “How did you end up there, anyway?” Steve queried, gesturing to the ceiling. Tony scowled, brushing sticky feathers off his arms and torso.

“Barton clearly getting back at me for the whole Coulson thing,” he muttered darkly. “This means war.”

“Coulson thing?” Steve queried bemusedly, helping Tony pluck feathers off his clothes. 

“Clint wanted my help getting Coulson to notice him, so I made him study all the time even though I knew Coulson had a crush on him anyway. Clint wasn’t too pleased when he found out. But hey, everything worked out okay in the end, right?” Their Hogsmeade date had gone fantastically, apparently, and the pair already acted like they’d been dating for years as opposed to two weeks. Tony had known Clint’s revenge was coming eventually. 

Steve shook his head, looking perplexed. “Man, everyone in your year is crazy,” he remarked, making Tony smirk.

“I resent that. Barton’s in yours,” he pointed out. Steve shrugged, vanishing the pile of feathers on the floor. 

“He’s still crazy.” Tony snorted, not arguing, and glanced down at himself in disgust. 

“Ugh, my clothes are ruined,” he muttered, irritated.

“Y’know, I still haven’t heard a thank you,” Steve reminded, making Tony look up. He smiled, seeing the faint grin at Steve’s lips.

“Thank you, my dashing prince, for saving me from an awful feathery fate,” Tony deadpanned. Steve snickered, grin widening.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for the chance to return the favour, so you’re very welcome, fair princess,” he returned with a wink, reminding Tony of the day he’d saved Steve from the bullies.

“Yeah, yeah, now we’re even. How’s that been working out for you, anyway? I haven’t seen you with any new bruises recently.” Pepper hung out with Steve more than he did, but occasionally she dragged him along to Hogsmeade with her and Peggy to get him out of the castle, and Steve and Bucky inevitably tagged along. Tony tried to avoid it, as while he liked spending time with Peggy and Steve, Bucky tended to rub him the wrong way.

“Yeah, well, they’ve been learning how to hit me where it isn’t visible,” Steve remarked dryly, causing Tony’s brow to furrow in concern. The Gryffindor gave a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but didn’t soothe Tony in the slightest. “Seriously, they’ve laid off a little, I’m way better than I was last year. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally get Thor and his buddies to be your bodyguards if you want to. And he might not look like much, but Bruce is surprisingly strong, he could do some damage for you if I bugged him enough about it,” he offered, though Steve shook his head.

“No, no, I can handle it. It’s fine, like I said.” Tony sighed, bumping Steve’s shoulder with his as they began to walk towards Ravenclaw tower.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Gryffindors,” he muttered with a shake of his head, making Steve let out a noise of offence. 

“Hey! Just because not everyone has it in them to be brave,” he began, only for Tony to level him with a look.

“There’s brave and then there’s stupid, blondie. Your actions lean towards the latter.”

“I could’ve left you hanging from the ceiling,” Steve said conversationally. 

“And I’m very grateful you didn’t. Even if you are stupid. But hey, it’s okay; not everyone can be a Ravenclaw,” Tony added with a shrug. Steve paused, a slight frown on his lips as he realised that Tony was just messing with him. 

“You’re kind-of a jerk,” he realised, making Tony grin.

“Yes. Yes I am,” he replied, sounding proud of it. 

“Why am I even friends with you?” Steve mused with a long-suffering sigh, and Tony almost tripped on air. Steve considered them friends? A slow grin tugged at his lips; he liked the idea of being friends with Steve. Even if the kid didn’t really get science, he was fun to talk to, and actually called Tony out on his shit. 

“Because I’m charming and handsome and your day is brightened merely by being in my presence,” Tony replied magnanimously. Steve snorted, though he was smiling.

“Sure, sure, if you say so.” They stopped outside the statue, and Steve gave Tony a look. “If I were you, I’d stay in your common room for a while in your free time.”

“What makes you think he can’t get in?” Tony retorted, remembering the many times Clint had just randomly turned up in the Ravenclaw common room, despite no one having actually invited him in, or seen him arrive. Sneaky little bastard. Steve looked shocked, and Tony smirked mischievously. “If I were you, little lion, I’d keep your eyes peeled for a while. Clint is not getting one-up on me,” he declared firmly, making Steve groan.

“Oh, Merlin. Just keep me out of your little prank war, alright? And I’ll keep my eyes on the ceilings, just in case you need rescuing again.” Tony shoved his shoulder, wincing at how skinny the boy was under his robe. 

“Shut it, blondie.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Tony,” Steve replied, walking away with a smile on his face.

“You’d be surprised how much I can fit in my mouth!” Tony called in reply, knowing that Steve would be going an adorable shade of red at his words. Grinning to himself, he answered the entry riddle and went up to the dorms, hoping Bruce was around. Planning a prank war was better with two people.


	5. Science Creates Explosions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bruce didn't mean to blow up the cauldron in class. Regardless, they still end up sharing detention with a certain Hufflepuff girl who is far too sneaky for her house.

Tony grinned to himself as he stirred the potion carefully, Bruce hovering over his shoulder to look into the cauldron. The instructions were in the textbook in front of them, but were being dutifully ignored as the two boys tried to improve the potion. Professor Pym didn't tend to ask what they did during class, so long as they turned in some sort of functional potion by the end of it, leaving them free to experiment for the whole double period. "Can you take over? I need to cut the wolfsbane," he asked Bruce, who nodded, shifting away a little. As a werewolf, he was allergic to wolfsbane, so it was Tony's job to handle it for potions. Carefully switching the stirring rod to Bruce's hands, Tony began to deftly slice the ingredient into even pieces, hand practically a blur as he chopped.

"You ready?" Bruce asked, stopping stirring and grabbing some powdered doxy eggs. Tony grinned, holding up the wolfsbane.

"On three." He counted down quickly, and on three they both dropped their ingredients in the cauldron, eyeing it warily. It fizzed, turning a violent red, then began to bubble ominously. Tony's eyes went wide, and he cursed loudly, shoving Bruce back with one hand and casting a shielding spell with the other. It almost worked; while his spell stopped either of them getting splattered with potion, it didn't stop the cauldron from completely exploding over their desk. "Well, that didn't go as planned."

"Mr Stark!" Tony snapped to attention at the shout, wincing as Pym stalked across the classroom towards them. "Care to explain why your cauldron exploded when I _know_ you can make this potion in your sleep?"

"Uh, yeah… we might have been… editing it a little." Pym stared, unimpressed, then turned to Bruce.

"And you didn't stop him?" he asked, irritated. Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but Pym cut him off before he could. "Of course you didn't; you're just as bad as he is. Detention, both of you; I don't mind you deviating from the lesson plan, but please save the explosions for your free time." Both boys sighed, but accepted the punishment. It wasn't their first detention — it wasn't even their first detention of that year — but it still sucked. Still, at least he didn't take house points.

.-.-.

As it turned out, they weren't alone in their detention; a Hufflepuff second year girl that Tony remembered as one of Jane's tutoring kids joined them in Pym's classroom, where they were instructed to take inventory of the ingredients cupboard before the Ravenclaw Head left them to it. "What are you in for, kid?" Tony asked with raised eyebrows, and the girl rolled her eyes.

"First off, totally not a kid," she told him frankly. "Second, I'm in because Professor Hogan way has it out for me. So I used a tiny tasering spell in class when we were only meant to be disarming; the guy was being a douche anyway, kept refusing to give back his partner's wand." Tony snorted despite himself, imagining how annoyed Happy Hogan would have become at her spell, mostly because he would've been amused by it. Tony was sort-of friends with the DADA teacher, as Hogan had been head of security for Stark Industries before switching to teach at Hogwarts. Head of security was pretty much code for 'Tony's babysitter', even now. Hell, the only reason Howard had even allowed him to go to Hogwarts without a bodyguard was because Happy was a teacher.

At the mention of the tasering spell, it immediately clicked for Tony who she was; Darcy, of course. Jane had dragged her along to their tutoring sessions with Barton, though the Hufflepuff girl rarely did any actual studying. She mostly ogled Thor and tasered all of them when she thought they weren't paying attention. Her and Clint had gotten on like a house on fire, he recalled.

"You're Barton's little minion, aren't you?" he asked her suspiciously, sure he'd seen the pair of Hufflepuffs sneaking around lately. Natasha refused to get involved with pranks, from what Tony knew. At least, pranks that people could pin on her.

"I resent the term minion. Accomplice would be a better word," Darcy replied, not denying the accusation. "Did you enjoy the dungbomb in your lab?"

"I knew that was Barton, stupid bird brain!" Tony exclaimed in annoyance. "It still smells in there, and it's been cleaned like a million times. He is so going down for that." Darcy merely smiled sweetly, scribbling down the number of bezoars in the box in front of her. "I'll get you back, too, missy; just you wait."

"Tony, no hexing second years," Bruce droned, having said the words a hundred times before. "Not even the really bratty ones," he added with a smirk towards Darcy, who made an offended face.

"People think I'm bratty to start with but then they bask in my awesomeness for a little while and learn to love me," she informed them sagely. Tony snorted, glancing at Bruce.

"I like this one; you think Barton would mind if we kept her?" he asked hopefully. "I promise to feed her and walk her, and she won't make a mess on the carpet."

"I'm totally housetrained," Darcy agreed, smirking.

"No pets in the dorm," Bruce insisted, shaking his head. "But if you wanted to go about it like a normal person, you could try being friends." Tony shot Bruce a disgusted face.

"How dare you accuse me of being a normal person, honeybear. I thought you knew better than that," Tony scolded, nudging Bruce's shoulder.

"Oh, hey, while I'm here, could you guys clear something up for me?" Darcy queried hopefully. "Rumours of you two dating, true or false?" Bruce hid a smile, meeting Tony's eyes, and the billionaire draped an arm around his friend's waist, propping his chin on his shoulder to reach round and add something to their list.

"Unconfirmed. We like to keep people guessing," Tony told the girl, who cursed under her breath.

"Lame. And the rumours should totally be true if they're not; you guys would be hot together. And you practically act like a couple anyway," she pointed out. Tony glanced speculatively at Bruce, remembering the last time he'd dated someone because the rumour mill had suggested it. That hadn't ended well. But Bruce was different, he wasn't Pepper… maybe he should just leave well alone.

Getting back to work, neither boy noticed the slight smirk tugging at their Hufflepuff companion's lips as she watched Tony's thoughts play out on his face. That was the thought planted; now to just see if anything came of it. No one ever suspected the Hufflepuff.


	6. Never Underestimate Redheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prank war between Clint and Tony escalates, and Pepper and Natasha are sick of it. They decide to take matters into their own hands, and grow a little closer in the process.

Hogwarts was in chaos, and no one needed three guesses to know who was at fault. Things had been slowly escalating since the tar-and-feather prank of Clint's, when Tony had declared war and drafted Bruce into his planning. After that had come the dancing spell, the truth serum and the colour-change charm, and things had only gotten worse from there. Pepper was sick of it.

"We have got to figure out a way to stop this," she groaned, knees tucked up to her chest. Her companion sighed, shrugging.

"How, though? They're both as stubborn as each other, and convinced they can win. The only way they'll stop is if they seriously hurt someone, and that's not likely to happen," Natasha pointed out. While Clint and Tony were idiots, they weren't stupid, and knew how to keep their pranks safe and funny. They could be in detention until they graduated and neither boy would mind, but they wouldn't dare do anything that might actually hurt an innocent bystander. Pepper wondered if the damage to her sanity counted as 'hurting an innocent bystander'.

"Tony might stop if Bruce tells him to," Pepper mused, earning a flat look from the other redhead.

"But Bruce is having just as much fun as the other two are," Natasha said wryly. The quiet Ravenclaw was better at hiding it, but it was obvious he was enjoying the prank war. Pepper blamed Tony.

"I wouldn't mind so much if their pranks weren't so…"

"Blatant?" Natasha suggested, curling a lock of hair around her finger. Pepper nodded emphatically; all the pranks were so obvious, it was no wonder the three boys were in detention for the next two weeks! If they were going to have a prank war, the least they could do was be sneaky about it. "I know, it's embarrassing. I thought Clint was better than that."

"Have you talked to Phil about it?" Pepper queried, wondering if Clint's boyfriend would be ale to get him to stop. Natasha nodded.

"Yeah, he's happy to stay out of it so long as Clint makes time for him," she replied, frowning. "Though he's tried to get Clint to be a little less flashy about things." She liked Coulson, he was great and perfect for Clint, but she wished he would at least try and stop his boyfriend from spending all his time planning pranks. She supposed Clint did his planning in Hufflepuff and allowed Coulson to stick around, but Natasha was banished because of her 'traitorous leanings'; apparently, Clint couldn't trust her not to tell his plans to Pepper in order to get on the redhead's good side. Tasha merely told him that she and Pepper had better things to talk about than their stupid prank war, but Clint still didn't hang around her much anymore. As much as she loathed to admit it, she missed him.

The only good thing about Clint and Tony's little prank war was the fact that Natasha got to spend plenty of time with Pepper, commiserating about how boneheaded 'their boys' were. They'd bonded some during Clint's tutoring sessions, but Natasha had expected that friendship to fade after Clint stopped. It surprised her that their little study group still met up every now and then, either to actually study or just to hang out, with the addition of Coulson. It was nice, having the group of friends from all houses and ages. Strange, but nice. And, well, Pepper was just the icing on the cake; spending even more time around her had only fuelled Natasha's crush, and it was beginning to get to an embarrassing level. No one else noticed, of course, but Tasha could barely think straight around the pretty Hufflepuff.

"Maybe we should just force them to talk it out, call a truce," Pepper suggested, breaking Natasha from her thoughts.

"How, though? They won't say anything to each other that isn't a taunt," she replied with a raised eyebrow. Pepper smirked, sending tingles across Natasha's skin. Merlin, she was a sucker for the devious ones.

.-.-.

"C'mon, Clint, I haven't seen you in days," Natasha urged, tugging on the Hufflepuff boy's arm.

"You saw me yesterday in Transfiguration," Clint pointed out, making Tasha roll her eyes.

"Yeah, and you spent the whole lesson plotting in that little notebook of yours," she reminded him. "I haven't punched anything in forever and I need to let off some steam, come spar with me." Clint sighed, but nodded, allowing her to drag him along.

"Wait, where are we going?" Clint asked with a frown, knowing the route they were taking wouldn't lead to any of their usual spots.

"New place," the Slytherin girl replied shortly, turning her head a little to hide her smirk. "Go on, in." Before he could protest, she shoved him into the classroom, slamming the door shut and locking it with a charm.

"Tasha!" Clint yelled, pounding on the door. "Tasha, come on, this isn't funny!" Natasha smiled, tucking her wand away.

"Two hours, Clint!" she called back. "If this stupid prank war isn't resolved by then, I swear Pepper and I will kick both your asses!" She heard a loud curse, and smirked; Clint had obviously noticed his companion in the room. Pepper rounded the corner, having locked the other door into the room, and grinned at the younger girl.

"Well, that gives us two hours to kill," she mused, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Wanna go for a walk or something?" Natasha smiled, nodding, and fell into step beside Pepper.

"Hopefully the classroom won't be a smouldering crater when we get back," Natasha remarked, making Pepper laugh.

"It shouldn't be; Tony knows that damaging school property will make both Bruce and I very upset," she assured. "And I doubt Clint is capable of that quite yet."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Natasha replied. They wandered through the corridors, chatting about nothing and anything, and went down to the entrance hall, surprised when they bumped into a concerned-looking Phil Coulson.

"Hey, have you two seen Clint?" he asked with a frown, and the two girls shared a look.

"Yeah, we locked him in a classroom with Tony," Natasha replied bluntly. Coulson paused.

"And you did that… why?" he asked, blank-faced.

"Hopefully, to end this stupid prank war they've got going," Pepper supplied, offering the Hufflepuff a sweet smile. She'd always liked Phil, even when no one in their year was really a fan of him. Tony insisted he was too uptight, but really they got along okay. "Don't worry, they're perfectly safe. We'll let them both out in about an hour." Coulson sighed, shaking his head.

"Merlin, I'm dating an idiot," he muttered, though there was a fond smile on his face and no malice in his words. "Okay, tell him to come back to the common room when you let him out to play again." Natasha laughed, offering the older boy a smile.

"Sure thing, Phil. See you around."

"Stay out of trouble, ladies," he replied, continuing towards the grand staircase. Pepper snorted, giving Natasha a smirk.

"Stay out of trouble? Really? You'd think he'd never met us," she remarked, taking a turning down a little-used corridor.

"I know, right? I mean, us, trouble?" Natasha agreed, attempting innocence. It didn't work too well. Pepper laughed, her smile causing flutters in Natasha's belly.

"Hey, promise me something?" Pepper asked abruptly, glancing sideways at Natasha.

"Sure, anything." Pepper stopped turning to properly face the Slytherin.

"Promise me we won't stop hanging out when the boys aren't fighting anymore," she said softly, looking a little nervous. Natasha frowned; what on Earth made Pepper think she'd stop wanting to hang out.

"Of course we won't. I promise," she added, making Pepper smile.

"Great." Pepper leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to Natasha's lips, then carried on walking as if nothing had happened. Natasha blinked, wondering if she'd imagined the whole thing, then hurried to catch up, grabbing Pepper's hand.

"Okay, hold up. You can't just kiss me and then keep walking," she declared, making Pepper smile.

"Why not? Come on." She squeezed Tasha's hand, prompting her to walk once more, their fingers clasped between them.

"Merlin, I am so confused," Natasha murmured, staring at her and Pepper's joined hands as they walked, stunned. "Since when did you like me back that way?" Pepper laughed, pulling Natasha closer to kiss her once more.

"Y'know, maybe Clint wasn't the only oblivious one," she joked, arm winding around Tasha's waist. "But it's okay. You're cute when you're confused." Natasha blinked once more, then smirked, tucking some stray hair back behind Pepper's ear.

"I think I've caught up now," she assured. "So maybe you wanna kiss me again?" Pepper snickered, but obliged, closing the gap between them to press their lips together gently. Natasha had never kissed anyone before, but she definitely liked kissing Pepper. Resting a tentative hand on the older girl's hip, Natasha deepened the kiss, leaning up on her toes to compensate for the slight height difference. When they parted, Tasha found herself smiling, and Pepper grinned back.

"We should probably go free Clint and Tony," the Gryffindor mused, but Natasha rolled her eyes.

"They can survive ten more minutes." Pepper could hardly argue with her mouth otherwise occupied. Natasha decided that Clint would never know what had really happened; he'd never let her live down being just as oblivious about Pepper as he had been with Coulson.


	7. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a combination of puberty and a failed potion, Bruce's werewolf senses are starting to overwhelm him in a castle full of teenagers. Tony tries to help, and Bruce loses his temper

In the three and a half years Tony had known Bruce, he’d gotten pretty used to his… wolfy moments. They didn’t happen too often — Bruce was very good at reigning in his temper, which was why he was ordinarily so mild-mannered — but over the past year or so, they’d been getting worse, and happening more often. Going on things he’d read in books about werewolves, which were admittedly few and far between, Tony surmised that it was pretty much werewolf puberty. The books said that not only did they have mood-swings to look forward to, but Bruce’s senses would get even stronger, and he would have a harder time resisting his baser needs. Bruce had gone bright red when Tony had told him that, but Tony wasn’t perturbed. 

They were both still working on finding a cure, but hadn’t gotten very far. It wasn’t helped by Bruce constantly urging Tony to work on his own projects and prioritise other things, pointing out that if he’d lasted seven years already, he could wait a while longer. Tony didn’t like that reasoning, but often got swayed towards other topics of research. As Bruce got further into ‘wolf puberty’ as Tony called it, the billionaire became more determined to find a cure, not liking how Bruce was suffering through losing control. And Bruce wasn’t as open with him since he had to keep himself under such a tight rein; he didn’t hug Tony as much, too afraid of hurting him, and often wouldn’t allow Tony to snuggle because his scent became too overwhelming. Tony assured him that he didn’t mind, that it was perfectly natural, but Bruce still got embarrassed and upset when just sitting beside Tony turned him on. Tony wondered how Bruce survived in class, with all the teenage hormones running riot, and realised why Bruce had a near-permanent glamour on his trousers. 

They’d tried a few attempted solutions so far, but none of their potions or spells had done a damn thing. Tony was starting to run out of options, though he hadn’t told Bruce yet. He would make more options; he was Tony Stark, after all.

Curing lycanthropy was far from Tony’s mind currently; he was in the dorm with Bruce, studying for a History of Magic exam. The one subject that didn’t come easily to him, and the one subject he hated studying the most. He couldn’t fail the test, though; Howard would kill him. “Hey, Bruce, can’t I just borrow your notes and copy off those until I learn it myself?” he pleaded, turning puppy-eyes on his best friend. Bruce looked up, glaring at him.

“No, Tony; you won’t learn by copying, and I don’t care if you hate the subject, I won’t allow you to cheat,” he retorted harshly. Tony winced, taken-aback. 

“Whoa. Easy, big guy. No copying, got it,” he soothed cautiously. “Is, uh, everything okay?” Bruce’s glare darkened, and he made an almost growling noise in his throat. Tony glanced down at his watch, checking the date. Three days to full moon. Everything was definitely _not_ okay.

“No, damn it! How can things be okay? All I can smell in this castle is hormones and sweat and magic, I’m horny _all the time_ and it’s not even _my_ arousal causing it, I have a headache almost as soon as I step out of this dorm room and even inside it your fucking quill is scratching too damn loud! And on top of that, every muscle in my body is aching already in preparation for me to turn into a giant bloodthirsty beast on Thursday! So yeah, Tony, I’m just fucking peachy!” Bruce snarled, throwing his History textbook at the wall in anger. The beds and windows rattled, and a couple of books levitated off the shelf in the corner. Bruce’s eyes flashed gold, and Tony jumped up from his bed, approaching cautiously.

“Easy, Bruce. Easy,” he murmured, holding his hands out carefully. He placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, only to cry out in pain when his friend nearly broke his arm while pushing him away. “Ow, shit! Bruce, calm down, it’s okay!”

“It’s not okay, Tony,” Bruce insisted, anguish in his voice that made Tony’s heart clench. “How the hell can it be okay? The wolf is winning.” His voice was turning into a sob, and Tony ignored the pain in his arm, rushing forward to clamber onto Bruce’s bed. Ignoring his friend’s struggling, Tony grabbed him in a tight hug, kissing Bruce’s hair. 

“The wolf isn’t winning,” he murmured firmly. “The wolf won’t win, because you’re stronger than that.” He rubbed Bruce’s back gently, pulling him in until their foreheads were pressed together. “Focus on me, Bruce. I’m sorry if I smell horny but I’m a fifteen year-old boy and I can’t help that. Just concentrate on my breathing. Come on; in, out. In, out.” He counted his breathing until Bruce was mimicking it, shoulders heaving with every intake of breath. “That’s it. You’ve got it, you’re under control. I’m sorry about my scent and my quill and whatever the hell else I do that annoys you, and if you just tell me I’ll try and fix it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce argued, still hiccuping with sobs as he tried to calm himself. “You can’t help it. I should be in better control.” Tony rolled his eyes, kissing Bruce’s forehead.

“You’re allowed to lose control sometimes, Bruce,” he whispered. “You’re not invincible.” Bruce didn’t reply, concentrating on his breathing, and it was a long time before he finally opened his eyes and let his shoulders slump. 

“I’m okay,” he murmured, forehead to Tony’s cheek. “I’m okay.”

“There we go,” Tony said with a faint smile, carding his fingers through Bruce’s hair. “You back with me?” Bruce nodded, pulling back slightly.

“I hurt you,” he realised, looking at Tony’s arm, and the Stark heir shook his head.

“Barely even felt it,” he lied. Bruce shot him a look.

“Liar. Go to the hospital wing.”

“In the morning,” Tony promised, not wanting to leave Bruce alone. “Wanna tell me what that was about?” Bruce bit his lip, shrugging.

“Just… culmination of everything, I guess. Like I said, the scents, the sounds, everything is overwhelming now. Ever since…” he trailed off, wincing, and Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Ever since what?” Bruce shook his head, and Tony nudged him gently. “Bruce, what happened?”

“You remember the potion from a month ago? The one we theorised but never actually brewed because you didn’t think it would work?” Bruce told him. Tony nodded slowly, hoping Bruce wasn’t going where he thought he was going. He hadn’t brewed that potion because he didn’t think it was stable. “Well… I brewed it anyway. I had to try, Tony. Ever since I took that potion, it’s been harder to keep the wolf at bay. It’s so much closer to the surface… I’ve been trying to hide it from you, but it just got too much.” Tony grimaced, guilt welling in his chest.

“Shit, Bruce, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bruce bit his lip, looking sheepish.

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me for making the potion.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“How the hell could I be mad at you? The potion was my idea,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but you said not to brew it, I should’ve listened to you,” Bruce retorted. Tony shook his head; what was done was done, and it didn’t matter now.

“Well it’s done now, and I’m not mad at you. Okay, I’m a little mad, but only because you didn’t tell me sooner. We could’ve fixed this by now, Bruce,” he murmured, fingers still running through Bruce’s hair. He’d missed this more than he liked to admit, but he now understood why Bruce had been so stand-offish. “I can mess with the muffling charm, see if I can figure out a way to alter it so you only hear things you’d normally hear. And there has to be something similar for scents; not to take it away completely, but to make it bearable. I’ll brew some muscle relaxant for you and give you a massage Wednesday night, see if that helps any. As for the horniness, Bruce, you know I’m willing to help with that.” Bruce turned bright red, shaking his head.

“I can deal with that part myself,” he insisted in a mumble. Tony shrugged; whatever suited him. 

“Then feel free to throw me out of the dorm to take care of things whenever you need. Either alone, or with a friend,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows, and Bruce smacked him lightly in the side. 

“Jackass,” he muttered fondly, making Tony chuckle.

“You love it,” he returned, pulling Bruce into a tight hug. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what you need, Bruce.”

“I thought I could handle it,” Bruce insisted. Tony rolled his eyes, tapping him on the nose in chastisement. 

“Yeah well, in future, I’d appreciate a heads up just in case you can’t.” Bruce nodded apologetically, then abruptly laid down on the bed, pulling Tony with him. Tony let out a strangled sound, but allowed himself to be manhandled into cuddling position, Bruce’s nose pressed against the flesh of his neck, just over his pulse point. “I assume we’re giving up on the History notes, then?” Tony asked, earning a nudge to the stomach.

“Yes, now shut up and let me hug you,” Bruce demanded. Tony chuckled, slinging an arm around Bruce’s back. He wondered what the people who thought they were dating would make of that, and was glad they would never find out. 

“I thought smelling people made you horny?” Tony queried, perplexed. If smelling anyone was going to make Bruce horny, it was him; Tony had lived in a near-constant state of arousal since before he’d turned thirteen.

“It does, but… you smell safe. Comforting. It’s hard to explain, but it’s why I stole your Stark Industries t-shirt. Your scent relaxes me, and the wolf. You’re pack to him,” Bruce admitted, sounding somewhat reluctant to do so. Tony grinned, pleased by the information; Bruce’s wolf thought he was pack. 

“Then by all means, keep the t-shirt, and just let me know when you need cuddle-time. Hell, we can push the beds together if you want.” Tony was forever grateful that they were the only two Ravenclaw boys in their year. It would’ve sucked having to share with more people than just Bruce. 

“No, no; I don’t want to sleep with you _every_ night, not with the way you dream,” Bruce teased, making Tony grin. His dreams were usually pretty active, either physically or sexually, and usually ended with him waking up either on the floor, tangled in his sheets, or with a wet spot in his boxers. “But… cuddle-time sounds nice. If you’ve not got anything else to do.” Tony rolled his eyes, pulling off his tie and undoing several buttons of his shirt, tugging off his sweater and making Bruce do the same. 

“Bruce, honeybear, anything else I could possibly be doing pales in comparison to cuddle-time,” he declared, completely honest. They lay back down with Bruce’s nose at Tony’s neck once more, their arms and legs a tangle of limbs, and despite Bruce’s elbow in his ribs and the weight of the other boy half-sprawled on him, Tony had never been more comfortable. Settling down in Bruce’s arms, he made a mental note to go through all his research on the lycanthropy cure. He’d spend the whole summer on it if he had to; who knew what the experimental potion had done to Bruce’s relationship with the wolf. He had to find that cure as quickly as possible. “We’ll work through this, Bruce,” he promised, stroking his friend’s chest. 

“Mm, shut up and go to sleep,” Bruce grumbled in reply, wrapping his arm tighter around Tony. The billionaire chuckled, closing his eyes. Yeah, they’d figure something out.


	8. Snake in Badger's Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is determined to get help with her Charms homework. Loki is the best in their class at Charms. And if she wants to know more about the reclusive brother Thor is always wailing about, who can blame her?

Loki looked up at the abrupt slam, frowning in distaste at the dark-haired girl who had dropped her books on his table. Usually people didn’t come this far back in the library; precisely why he worked there. “What do you want?” he asked with a slight sneer, hoping she would declare him weird and leave, like everyone else did.

“You’re good at Charms, right?” she asked him, and he blinked, perplexed.

“What has that got to do with anything?” She rolled her eyes, shoving a thick Charms textbook towards him, open on a page about cheering charms.

“Help me,” she urged, pointing at the book. “I don’t understand this, like, at all. You’re always getting full marks. Help me.” He raised a dark eyebrow at her, still slightly confused.

“Why should I? I don’t think you even know my name,” he told her, slightly hurt. He knew hers, of course, but since that fateful meeting on the train he’d barely spoken two words to her. She laughed, giving him an amused look.

“Dude, how the hell could I forget a name like yours? You’re Loki. We met on the train in first year. We’ve had, like, five classes together for the past two years.” She spoke as if it was ridiculous someone could not know his name, but he knew plenty of people who shared classes with him that didn’t. “As for why you should help me, well; if the warm-fuzzies of doing a good deed aren’t enough, I guess I could always let slip to your big brother where you like to hang out around here if you don’t help me. Apparently he can’t shut up about you in Gryffindor, and you don’t give him the time of day.” Loki stared at the girl in disbelief, eyes darting down to double-check the yellow and black stripes on her tie.

“How in Salazar’s name are you a Hufflepuff?” he blurted, making her laugh.

“That, my friend, is a secret. So are you gonna help me or what?” Loki sighed to himself; if Darcy went and told Thor where he studied, he’d have to find somewhere else, and he rather liked his dusty little corner of the library. Besides, she was one of the few people who didn’t actively make fun of him; she couldn’t be so bad. 

“Fine,” he relented, shuffling his chair closer to hers so he could peer at the Charms book. “What is it that you don’t understand?” She grinned at him, then made a vague gesture with her hands.

“Like… everything.”

.-.

It didn’t take Loki long to explain cheering charms to Darcy; she understood a lot more than she gave herself credit for, and seemed to pick things up fairly quickly. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d not been so bloody nosy between his explanations. “So why don’t you talk to your brother, anyway?” she asked innocently, making his jaw clench.

“He’s not my brother,” he bit out, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, dude; everyone knows you’re related.” It was true; despite Loki warning Thor not to say anything, the blonde idiot had easily let it slip that the scrawny, pale little Slytherin was his brother.

“No we’re not,” Loki argued. “Not by blood. I’m adopted.”

“Since when did that make any difference? Plenty of kids are adopted,” Darcy reasoned, shrugging. He sighed shortly; she wouldn’t understand.

“I’m… not like them. It’s hard to explain to someone who was raised outside the wizarding world,” he added bluntly, not meaning offence. As a muggleborn, Darcy wouldn’t know the intricacies of pureblood society, and so wouldn’t know how he didn’t fit a single one of those intricacies. Not the ones that were expected of an Odinson, at least.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you make it out to be. Being different isn’t so bad, and Thor seems to think you’re awesome,” she pointed out. Loki scowled, giving her an annoyed look.

“Because you’re best friends with him, of course,” he sniped. Darcy smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t be mean,” she scolded, throwing him for a loop. “And I know because Jane tutors me in Potions and Thor is totally into her so he hangs around during our tutor sessions all the time. He asks me about you, sometimes. I don’t like to lie and tell him we’re friends so I just tell him when you’ve done something cool in class, which is like every freaking day.” Loki tried not to let his surprise show on his face, but the bud of suspicion started to grow.

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, gesturing between them. “You making friends with me so you have something to tell Thor?” Once more, Darcy rolled her eyes, looking like she thought he was an idiot.

“No, stupid; this is me making friends with you because I think you’re pretty cool. No ulterior motives for once, I promise. Also, you’re smart, and Jane won’t help me with a lot of things,” she added. Loki chuckled lightly at that; it was the first time he’d really seen her show a Hufflepuff trait, but he was sure she was being honest. 

“I suppose we can be friends. So long as you don’t tell Thor, nor do you tell him where I frequent so he can find me. I’m rather proud of how well I’ve avoided him over the past two years.” He could hardly believe it was almost the end of his second year already. Soon he would be heading home, for a whole summer with no one but Thor and his moron friends for company. At least Sif would be there.

“Sure, dude. My lips are sealed,” Darcy promised, looking satisfied. “Now, as my friend, I believe it’s your duty to let me copy off you to finish this homework.” Loki snorted, amused.

“Not quite. I will, however, help you with it. And I might as well help you with that annoying little tasering spell you keep getting into trouble with,” he added, making her eyes widen.

“What do you mean, help me with it? I’m doing it just fine,” she insisted somewhat defensively.

“You are, yes, but you could be doing it better,” he told her. “Or, rather, using a better version of the spell.” Her eyes narrowed, and she straightened in her seat a little, looking interested.

“I’m listening.” Loki smirked at her; he’d thought that would get her attention. He tucked a stray lock of black hair behind his ear, reaching for his wand on the table.

“Well, there’s a version that would solve that little problem you have of people getting angry at you for using the spell. It’ll knock the victim out, only for five minutes or so. Enough for you to run away unharmed,” he explained, watching her face slowly light up. 

“Okay, yeah. Screw Clint Barton; new best friend, right here.”


	9. Keep Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets pulled from lessons and told some news that flips his world upside down. Being Tony Stark, that news is on the front page of the Prophet by morning.

Tony wasn’t really paying attention when the note appeared on Selvig’s desk in the middle of his last class of the day. That quickly changed when his name was called. “Mr Stark, Headmaster Fury needs to see you in his office,” the professor replied, and Tony frowned, trying to think of anything he’d done recently that would warrant being sent to the headmaster. 

“What did you do?” Bruce hissed, making Tony snort.

“Nothing that I know of. I’ll see you later,” he replied, gathering his books in his bag and standing up. Selvig frowned at him when he left, but it wasn’t his usual ‘I’m disappointed in you’ frown. It was more concerned, and it put Tony on edge.

Muttering the password to Fury’s statue guardian, he stepped onto the moving staircase, trying to calm his nerves. It wasn’t the first time he’d been to the Headmaster’s office, and he doubted he was in trouble. Still, all his efforts were for nothing as soon as he stepped into the office and saw Obadiah Stane sat opposite Fury’s desk, looking grave. “Obie, what’s wrong?” he asked instantly, knowing there was no reason for Obadiah to visit unless something had happened.

“Sit down, Tony,” the man instructed, and Tony folded his arms over his chest.

“Tell me what’s happened,” he urged.

“Stark, sit down,” Fury told him. He didn’t snap like he usually did, and Tony’s worry increased. Sitting in the other chair, he turned to face his father’s friend. 

“What’s happened, Obie?” he asked evenly. Obadiah let out a long breath, looking Tony in the eye. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Tony, but there was a lab accident at Stark Industries. Howard and Maria… didn’t make it.” Tony felt like he’d been put in front of a dementor. Both his parents… gone?

“What was Mom doing in the lab?” he asked, voice quiet. 

“Trying to get Howard to come up for lunch,” Obadiah explained. He leaned over, clasping Tony’s knee. “I’m so very, very sorry for your loss, Tony. I’ll take care of all the funeral arrangements, and… it’s in Howard’s will that I stand in as head of the company until you come of age.” Tony’s jaw clenched, and he stood abruptly.

“You want to talk about the company _now_?” he spat, glaring. “My _parents_ just died for _God’s sake_ , can’t you give me ten minutes to breathe!” Obadiah looked taken aback.

“I just wanted to assure you that the company will not flounder in the wake of Howard’s death.”

“I don’t _care_ about the company,” Tony argued angrily. “I don’t give a fuck about Stark Industries right now. Merlin, do you even care that Howard’s dead?” He ran a hand through his hair, scowling. “No. Fuck this. I’m out.” Before either of them could call him back, he stormed out of the office, heading straight back to Ravenclaw tower, ignoring the people who called out to him as he went up to the dorm. Bruce was waiting for him, and Tony locked the door behind him, toeing off his shoes and crawling onto his friend’s bed, letting his Ravenclaw robe fall to the floor. Bruce wrapped muscular arms around him, and Tony buried his face in his friend’s neck.

“What happened, Tony?” Bruce asked softly, and Tony swallowed back a sob. 

“My parents are dead,” he gasped out, feeling hot tears leaking from his eyes. Bruce’s grip tightened, and his lips pressed to Tony’s hair.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, holding Tony close. “How?”

“Lab accident. God, why am I crying? I shouldn’t be crying. My father was a jackass and my mother was an alcoholic, I shouldn’t be crying at their deaths.” He’d never gotten along with his father, and his mother had stopped being present shortly after he’d left for Hogwarts. Evidently with him at school she’d decided he was all grown up and out of her hands now. 

“They were still your parents,” Bruce pointed out. “You’re allowed to mourn them.”

“It’s not even that, though,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Obie came to tell me, and… he started talking to me about the company. Like I give a shit about who’s going to take over Stark Industries now Dad’s dead. He couldn’t have waited a day or two?” He heard Bruce sigh, and was shifted a little to look into his friend’s brown eyes. 

“Obie’s a jerk, though. You knew that,” Bruce pointed out, and Tony let out a wet chuckle. “Get some sleep, Tony. Think things out in the morning. Just… shut your brain off for a while.” Tony frowned, giving Bruce a look.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Bruce smiled, fingers working at Tony’s tie.

“I’ll help. Come on.” It was a testament to how upset Tony was that he didn’t make any innuendo-filled jokes as Bruce helped him strip down to his boxers. Instead of taking Tony over to his own bed, however, Bruce stripped to a similar state of undress and pulled on the plain grey t-shirt he used to sleep in. Nudging Tony off the bed, he tugged the duvet back, climbing into his bed. “Get in,” Bruce urged, making Tony look up in surprise. The werewolf rolled his eyes impatiently. “You think I’m going to leave you up here to sleep alone? Get in the bed, Tony.” 

“It’s not even six yet, Bruce. You’ll be missing dinner,” Tony pointed out, even as he crawled into bed beside Bruce. The taller boy gathered Tony against his chest, slinging an arm around his waist as if they weren’t only in their underwear. 

“I can go without just this once,” Bruce replied softly. He extinguished the lights in the dorm room with a murmured spell, and started running his fingers through Tony’s hair. “Just stop thinking and feel, Tony. Let it out,” he breathed, keeping up the continuous rhythm. It helped him when he felt the wolf get a little too close to the surface, and he assumed it would help Tony too. He felt a wet patch start to seep through his t-shirt beneath Tony’s face, and let out a long breath, wishing there was something he could do to help his friend. As much as Tony claimed to dislike his parents, Bruce knew he loved them deep down. As for Stark Industries… Tony was always talking about it could be so much _better_ if his father weren’t so selfish with it. He wouldn’t be able to just leave it in Obie’s hands and get on with his life. Making a mental note to research emancipation and inheritance laws, Bruce relaxed his body and focused on Tony in his arms, hoping the young genius would eventually cry himself to sleep. It was going to be a long few weeks, and he’d have to call in all the reinforcements to stop Tony working himself into a coma to avoid his emotions. 

.-.-.

Tony almost punched someone at breakfast the next morning.

He’d woken in a fairly good mood, all things considered, cuddled around Bruce like the werewolf was his own personal teddy bear. Bruce was used to it by now, so he didn’t complain. He’d prepared himself to face the day, only to crumble when he got down to breakfast and saw the front page of the Prophet. There, in black and white, was a picture of his father waving back at him, and the headline ’Starks both killed in lab explosion; Tony Stark last surviving heir’. It had only gotten worse as he’d read the actual article. Not only did it talk about Howard like he was some sort of saint, it barely mentioned Maria and was mostly full of speculation and gossip about the fate of Stark Industries and Tony himself. It was completely insensitive, and Tony contemplated suing the entire newspaper for slander. He could do it, if he wanted. 

It seemed like everyone wanted to give him their condolences. People in Ravenclaw who he barely even knew, people in other houses that he’d never spoken to in his life, and he hadn’t realised how many people he’d dated over the past year and a half until almost all of them offered to ‘help him feel better’. It took the entirety of their little ‘study group’ plus Coulson, Peggy, Steve, Bucky, and Thor’s other Gryffindor friends to get people to leave him alone long enough for him to eat his breakfast in peace. Pepper hugged him tightly, pressing her lips to his temple. “I’m here if you need me, Tony,” she murmured, drawing a faint half-smile from him. 

“Thanks, Pep.” No one but Pepper and Rhodey seemed brave enough to hug him, but he was patted on the back and kissed on the cheek several times by his group. He wished it weren’t a Saturday, so he could go to class and just forget about everything. Bruce had already banned him from his lab for the weekend. 

“You wanna come shoot some stuff with me?” Clint asked when they’d all finished their breakfast, and Tony shrugged.

“Nah, I think I’ll pass, thanks. Besides, weren’t you guys going to Hogsmeade today?” he queried, looking between Clint and Coulson. The older Hufflpuff gave him a flat look.

“If you need us around, we’ll be here. There are other Hogsmeade weekends,” Coulson replied, as if he was an idiot for thinking otherwise. Tony managed a feeble grin.

“Aww, Phil, I didn’t know you cared.” Coulson swatted him gently over the head, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“We’re all here for you, Tony,” Pepper insisted, her hand in Natasha’s. “You only have to ask.” Tony blinked, somewhat shell-shocked. How had he ended up with so many people in his life that actually cared about him? Especially people like the ones gathered in front of him; good people. What the hell had he done to deserve them?

“Thanks, guys. I really, really appreciate the offer, but… I think I just wanna be alone for a while,” he admitted hating the way his shoulders shook a little. He refused to cry again; he’d already cried too much the night before. Bruce probably thought he was a giant wuss.

“Sure, Tony,” Bruce murmured, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll be in the dorm if you need me, and we’ll all keep our phones on.” Thanks to Tony, all of them now had top-of-the-range Starkphones, completely free of charge.

“Thanks.” He stood up, and Rhodey grasped his wrist gently. 

“Tony, if you need to talk…” he trailed off, not needing to finish. He was the only other person in the group who knew what Howard had been like with Tony, who had grown up with him. Tony offered him a small smile.

“Maybe in a day or two, honeybear. But… it’s too soon at the moment.” Rhodey nodded in understanding, pulling him into a brief hug before releasing him, and Tony stepped away from the group, heading for wherever he was most likely to be left alone. He didn’t think he could take another ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. He was just glad no reporters could access him while he was at Hogwarts.

.-.-.

Tony wasn’t sure how long he spent just aimlessly wandering around the school, lost in thought, but it definitely helped him get his head back in place. He was able to think of his parents and mourn them privately, dredge up the few fond memories he had of his childhood. And he was finally able to think about what it meant for Stark Industries. He’d inherit it in a year and a half anyway, but… he knew Obie wanted to take Stark Industries in a very drastic direction, far more than Howard ever had. Howard had tried to keep an even mix of offensive and defensive research, where as Obie wanted to go straight into the offensive. Tony didn’t want that to happen; he wanted Stark Industries to help people, to make things better. He wanted them to find a cure for Bruce, and to bridge the gap between the muggle and magical world. He wanted to be able to use the high-tech systems he dreamed about without everything exploding at the weakest summoning charm. He wanted to stop people associating Stark Industries with death and destruction, and he couldn’t do that with Obadiah in charge.

Plotting his takeover of Stark Industries, Tony wandered out to the grounds, smiling slightly as he saw the glow of the sunset reflecting off a familiar blonde head of hair. Steve was perched on a large flat rock by the side of the lake, his sketchpad in hand. Tony knew he drew, but had never actually seen any of his pictures. Unsure if he was welcome to intrude in the artist’s space, he approached cautiously, making sure he could be heard. Steve looked up at him and smiled, and Tony assumed that meant he was okay to join him. “Hey,” he greeted softly, sitting on the rock beside the Gryffindor.

“Hey. You okay?” Steve asked, and Tony scoffed softly.

“Pass,” he replied, making Steve frown. The blonde scooted closer, his shoulder pressing to Tony’s.

“Wanna talk about it?” Tony shook his head, tucking his knees up to rest his chin on them.

“Not really. Just… looked kinda peaceful out here. And I could do with a little company. If you’re busy drawing, though, I can go find Bruce or something,” he added hastily, though Steve shook his head.

“Nah, I’m not busy. I’ve drawn this sunset a thousand times by now,” he replied, staring out over the lake. Tony followed his eyeline, a slight smile coming to his lips.

“I can see why; it’s beautiful.” Steve hummed in agreement, setting his sketchpad back on his lap and taking up his pencils. Tony could see over his shoulder enough to watch him as he drew, and he let out a low whistle. “You’re really good,” he complimented, making Steve blush. 

“Thanks, but I’m not that great.” Tony raised an eyebrow at him, and gestured to the pad.

“May I?” Steve nodded, allowing Tony to take the pad, and the billionaire flipped through some of the sketches and watercolours. There were pictures of all sorts of things; different landscape views from around the castle, an owl in flight, and several of all of Steve’s friends. Tony smiled when he saw a drawing of himself and Bruce in there, sat at a desk with their heads bent close together, both with quills in hand and smiles on their faces. Was that really how they looked when they were talking science? “Wow, this one’s amazing. When did you do it?” Steve’s cheeks were slightly pink as he replied.

“About four or five months ago. I was in there to get a book out for my History project, but… you guys just looked so happy I couldn’t resist drawing it. I don’t think anyone even noticed I was there; no one ever does,” he mused, sounding slightly forlorn.

“I notice you,” Tony replied instantly. “I remember that day; we’d blown up our lab and it was still undergoing decontamination, so Pepper made us do our homework in the library like normal people. I saw you, I just figured you were drawing from memory. I didn’t want to go over and say hi in case I broke your concentration.” Steve looked surprised, and Tony gave him a slight smile, nudging his shoulder gently. “You really think it’s that easy to fly under my radar, blondie? You should know better than that.” Steve chuckled, looking rueful.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll keep that in mind in future if I want to draw you while you’re not looking. I prefer natural subjects; posed art always looks a little… off to me. A little forced,” he reasoned. Tony shrugged, not knowing much about art, but he couldn’t argue with the results; Steve’s drawings were incredible.

“You should show these off a little more, y’know? They’re amazing, and I bet the guys would love to see them. That one of Clint and Coulson is cute, though if you tell them I said that I will hurt you.” Steve chuckled, reaching over to flip back to the page Tony had mentioned. Clint and Coulson were stood together, clearly in Hogsmeade, though the background was merely blurs and suggestions of colour. They were dressed in winter clothes, with their house hats and scarves on, and their gloved hands tightly clasped. They were facing each other, and Clint was just coming down off his toes, as if he’d just been leaning up for a kiss. His other hand was on Coulson’s shoulder, and both of them were smiling like they were the happiest people in the world.

“Maybe I’ll show them a couple,” Steve relented. “I just… I don’t want to forget anything. Any of this. If I draw it, it stays in my head better.” Tony frowned, wondering what Steve was talking about. How was he likely to forget things? He was right there with them.

“Steve, is everything okay?” he asked, concerned. The smile Steve gave him looked slightly forced, and he nodded.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Don’t worry about me, Tony; you’ve got enough on your plate as it is.” Tony almost flinched at the reminder, and sighed. He had so much to do, but first he had to get through the funeral. Obadiah had sent him a text, telling him it was on Wednesday. He didn’t ask about bringing a friend, though he wished he could bring Pepper or Bruce for support. At least Rhodey would be there, as a family friend. 

“I suppose. But this whole friendship thing goes both ways, y’know. With all of us. We’re all here for you just as much as you’re here for us,” he pointed out. That only seemed to make Steve’s mood worse, and Tony figured he was probably best off dropping the subject. He wound an arm around his own knees, shoulder pressing against Steve’s. He wished he could lean against him, but he was afraid of breaking the younger boy. Still, it was nice having the company. Steve took the sketchpad back, opening it to the half-finished sunset, and Tony let himself relax in the presence of the Gryffindor. He’d have to face the world again tomorrow, but until then… he could just breathe.


	10. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor has been mooning over Jane Foster for the entire school year, at least. His friends decide it’s time for him to do something about it. However, he doesn’t make his intentions too clear at first.

Thor smiled widely over at the Ravenclaw table, hoping he didn’t have any food in his teeth. Jane, the recipient of his smile, grinned back somewhat shyly, offering a wave before being drawn back into conversation with Tony and Bruce, the Stark heir gesturing wildly when Bruce wasn’t reminding him of the cutlery in his hands. “Must you keep staring at her from afar, Thor?” Fandral remarked wryly, rolling her eyes. “You’re supposed to be brave. Ask the good lady on a date.” Thor felt his cheeks redden, and prayed Jane was no longer looking his way.

“It’s not that simple, my friend, although I wish it were,” he insisted.

“Why not?” Sif asked, eyebrow raised. “You both speak the same language. All you have to do is get the words out.”

“I think that is his problem,” Hogun joked, smirking. 

“Oh, leave him alone, you brutes,” Peggy cut in, patting Thor’s forearm. “I’d like to see any of you asking out girls. Or boys.” The three boys and Sif faltered under her sharp gaze, and Bucky let out a quiet snicker from his safe place on Steve’s other side. 

“I went on a date last week!” Fandral pointed out indignantly, but Peggy wasn’t impressed.

“Yes, one she asked you on. You’ve never been the one asking, in all your many conquests, have you?” Fandral’s reputation was no secret, especially not amongst his friends. He could have his pick of almost any girl in the castle, and took full advantage of it. Peggy had a point, though; they always came to him, never the other way around.

“Yes, well…” He trailed off, unable to retort.

“I think you should ask her,” Steve piped up quietly, a small smile at his lips. “She likes you, Thor. Anyone can see that. I don’t think you’d have a problem in asking.” Thor grinned, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice.

“Friend Steve, I think you might be right,” he declared, gathering his confidence as he saw Jane get up from her table alone. “I shall see you all back at the tower.” He got to his feet, ignoring the food still left on his plate, and hurried to catch up with the brunette Ravenclaw in the entrance hall. “Lady Jane!” he called, and she stopped, turning to him with a smile.

“Hey, Thor,” she greeted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Everything okay?”

“I was wondering if you would consent to meeting with me this evening,” he asked somewhat rapidly, while he had the nerve. To his delight, Jane grinned.

“Sure, I’m totally free. Transfiguration again?” Thor blinked, then felt the blush creeping up his cheeks as he realised she had misunderstood him. He could hardly blame her; he’d often asked for impromptu tutoring sessions, and he hadn’t made it all that clear he’d meant for her to meet him for a date. 

“Uh, yes,” he agreed, unwilling to try and explain himself. Being around Jane always made him feel tongue-tied. She was just so _smart_ , he didn’t understand why she bothered with him.

“I’ll bring my books with me, then. Library at seven?” He nodded, and she smiled at him. “Great, see you then.” Before he could say anything more, she turned to head up the stairs, and he let his shoulders slump when she was out of sight. 

“So much for Gryffindor courage,” he muttered to himself, combing fingers through his messy blonde hair. Still, he had an evening with Jane to look forward to, even if it wasn’t in the capacity he’d planned. Maybe he could explain himself then.

.-.

Sif had yet to stop laughing. Thor wished it weren’t against his moral code to hit a lady. “You just let her _assume_ ,” she crowed, amused. “Oh, Thor, you are hopeless.” He didn’t take offence, as there was a smile on her face.

“You’re going to have to learn a way with women, my friend; it clearly didn’t come naturally,” Fandral remarked, a half-smirk on his face. “Perhaps I might be willing to give you some advice.”

“He doesn’t want advice from _you_ ; he actually likes this girl,” Peggy told the blonde flatly, making Volstagg bark out a surprised laugh. It was a good thing the Warriors Three were used to being shown up by a woman, or Peggy would have been quite a shock to them upon joining Hogwarts. She and Sif had been very fast friends, despite the year’s age difference. “You do, don’t you, Thor?”

“Very much so,” he admitted freely, turning earnest eyes on the brunette. “Tell me, my lady, how to make my affections known to the Lady Jane.” Peggy smiled at him, patting his shoulder.

“Well, first thing’s first, get her thinking about you in the right way. This shan’t be too much of a problem, given… you.” She blushed slightly, and Steve looked amused from where he was pretending to do his homework at the coffee table. “But the right clothes can’t hurt. And as lovely as you look in your uniform, I think you should go change. Sif, go up with him, would you? Make sure he looks presentable.” Sif nodded, grabbing Thor by the arm, and he allowed her to lead him up to his dorm. Dressing in the clothes she handed him, having trusted her on the matter for almost as long as he could remember — his mother believed he was capable of dressing himself for his father’s formal dinners and parties, but she had never been more wrong — he actually made the effort to brush his hair into neatness. 

“That will have to do,” Sif declared, smiling faintly. He tugged her close with a long arm, tucking her into his chest.

“Thank you, dear Sif,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head fondly. She laughed quietly, squeezing him briefly around the waist before wiggling free.

“Thor, my friend, there is nothing to thank me for. Now come, I’m sure this is not the only part of Peggy’s plan.” Thor swallowed slightly, but squared his shoulders and followed his younger friend back down to the common room. If Peggy’s plan helped him win the heart of Jane Foster, it would be worth it.

.-.-.

Thor wasn’t surprised to find Jane already at the library when he arrived, her books spread out over their usual table and an empty chair beside her, waiting for him. He was relieved to see she had also changed out of her uniform for the evening, not wanting to look like he was trying too hard — according to Peggy, that was important. Jane wore jeans and an olive green t-shirt, a thin grey cardigan over the top. Her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, and it made him smile. How could she look so beautiful without even realising?

She looked up when he drew closer, smiling brightly, and if Thor wasn’t mistaken her eyes widened a fraction as she took in the sight of him. Usually he turned up to their sessions still in his school shirt and trousers, or in ragged jeans and a t-shirt. Now he was in well-fitting jeans and a plaid shirt open over a white t-shirt, and his friends had assured him Jane wouldn’t be able to resist him. “Hey, Thor,” she greeted, the faintest stutter to her voice.

“Greetings, Lady Jane,” he replied, sinking into the chair and tugging his satchel over his shoulder, reaching for his books. 

“What did you want to go over?” she asked, leaning her elbow on the table. He gave her a look, hesitating, and she laughed. “I’ll pick up where we left off.” He chuckled, smiling.

“I would be most grateful.”

“Just doing my job,” she replied, pulling a textbook closer so they could both see it. “So you understood the theory behind the object-to-animal transfiguration, right?” He nodded, frowning slightly.

“Yes, but I could not get the spell to quite work. And I confess that the process of reversing the spell made little sense to me.” Jane didn’t seem bothered, immediately launching into an explanation, using her notes to help and prompting him to take his own. Thor tried to pay attention the best he could, but as he’d often found during the course of the year Jane had been tutoring him, he was easily distracted by his tutor. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke about the things she understood and enjoyed, and her enthusiasm sent warmth to his chest.

“Lady Jane, if I may,” he interrupted, steeling himself for what he was about to do. There was no backing out, not now. His friends would never let him live it down if he returned without having at least tried.

“Sure. Am I going too fast for you?” He shook his head, and she set her quill down.

“Nay, it is not about the tutoring. I… I have a confession to make.” One of Jane’s eyebrows rose, prompting him to continue. “When I asked you to meet with me this evening, I did not mean for us to have another tutoring session. I… I had hoped you might be willing to go on a date with me.” There, he’d said it. 

Jane looked shocked, her jaw slightly slack. “You… a date? With me?” she confirmed, and he nodded.

“I have been meaning to ask you for months, but contrary to my house I could not find the confidence to do so. However, I would be most honoured if you would consent.” Her cheeks were pink as he spoke, and she still looked somewhat shellshocked. 

“Seriously? Tony didn’t put you up to this, did he?” she asked, suspicious. Thor’s eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically, taking her small hand in his.

“No, friend Tony had no say in my decision, and I assure you I am perfectly serious. I hold great affection for you, Jane Foster. I apologise for the time it has taken for me to tell you this, but… matters of the heart are not my forte,” he admitted sheepishly. He was very aware that she had yet to give him an answer, and tried to ignore the frantic beating of his heart as he sat there with her fingers linked with his. She smiled shyly, the redness still high on her cheeks.

“Wow. You’re actually serious,” she murmured in disbelief. “Well, I, uh. We should probably finish working on these notes,” she said, gesturing to the Transfiguration books on the table. Thor’s heart began to sink. “But, maybe afterwards, we can go with your original plan. If you want.” He blinked, taking several seconds to figure out what she was implying.

“You wish to go on a date with me after our tutoring session?” he confirmed, and she nodded.

“Yeah. Maybe we can walk around the lake before curfew, or something.” Thor beamed at her words, heart swelling with joy.

“Thank you, Lady Jane, for giving me the honour,” he declared strongly, bringing her hand up to his lips. “We should finish these notes quickly, so we have more time to spend together before we must part for curfew.” She grinned at him, reaching into her pocket for her StarkPhone.

“I’ll tell Tony and Bruce not to wait up for me,” she said, tapping out a quick text. Sending it, she slipped the phone back into her pocket, ignoring it when it notified her of a reply; Tony would know exactly what her text meant, and she didn’t want to know what his response would be. 

Thor didn’t let go of her hand as she went back to explaining the spell theory to him, and he grinned to himself when she shuffled her chair closer to his, their shoulders bumping lightly when either of them moved. He’d never wanted a tutoring session to end more than he did right then.


	11. Stress Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's 'werewolf puberty' is only getting worse as he gets older, and being in a castle full of horny teenagers definitely isn't helping. Tony decides to lend a hand.

Snuggling on a Friday evening had sort-of become their thing, now. Bruce was always tense on Fridays, after a whole week of having to put up with the rest of the world, and a few hours of semi-meditation in Tony’s arms helped him push through it and prepare for the next week. Sometimes they stayed there until morning, other times they split up and slept in their own beds, but Bruce was becoming increasingly desperate for contact as time went on. As a tactile person, Tony had no problems with this; a lot of the time, he looked forward to their cuddle-time just as much as Bruce did. Still, it frustrated him how much Bruce was holding himself back, even now. 

The week had been harder than usual for Bruce. Not only was it a full moon on Sunday, but everyone was rowdier than usual now exams were over and there was only a week and a half left of term. People had been louder, and more boisterous, and apparently the scent of arousal and sex had almost tripled. Bruce had given up trying to hide the evidence from Tony, though he was still embarrassed to be caught by his friend with an obvious tent in his boxers. Tony just wished he’d ask for help; it wasn’t like he hadn’t offered. Even now, he could feel Bruce’s hardness against his thigh, and the tenseness in his friend’s back that betrayed how he was holding back from rubbing it up against Tony for relief. “Bruce,” Tony murmured, making his voice purposely husky. He’d have to take matters into his own hands. It wasn’t like he’d not thought about it — or dreamt about it — and while he didn’t think he wanted to date Bruce, he definitely wasn’t adverse to seeing where things went. 

The werewolf lifted his head, and Tony took the opportunity, pressing his lips to his friend’s. Bruce lips were warm, and slightly rough, and they parted in surprise almost immediately. Tony swiped his tongue across the other boy’s bottom lip, drawing a low moan from Bruce. “Tony, you don’t have to,” Bruce insisted, breaking the kiss, and Tony rolled his eyes impatiently.

“I want to,” he retorted, bringing his lips back to Bruce’s. “C’mon, Bruce. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

“Don’t do this because you feel you should,” Bruce pleaded, shaking his head. Huffing, Tony grabbed Bruce’s hand, shoving it against his own crotch, which was just as tented as Bruce’s. 

“Does that feel like I don’t want this?” he retorted, watching Bruce’s cheeks go red, though his eyes darkened with lust. “Now tell me to back off, and I will. But I want this, Bruce. It never has to happen again, and it won’t change anything unless we want it to. So are you in or out?” He shifted, pushing Bruce onto his back and straddling his hips, and the werewolf growled throatily. 

“I’m in,” he breathed, leaning up to attack Tony’s neck, licking and biting. Tony moaned, tilting his neck to give Bruce better access, fingers working at the buttons of Bruce’s shirt. 

“Merlin, yes,” he murmured, pressing down against Bruce to cause the taller boy to buck his hips. “So good, Bruce. Want you to fuck me.” Bruce’s eyes widened, and he pulled back, meeting Tony’s gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and Tony nodded.

“Want it to be you,” he insisted. He trusted Bruce. Bruce groaned softly at the look in Tony’s eyes, then nodded, hands reaching for the fly of his trousers. Tony pulled Bruce’s shirt off, tossing it on the floor, and immediately took one of his nipples between his teeth, smirking when Bruce’s back arched in pleasure. He’d always figured Bruce’s nipples would be erogenous zones. 

They were both naked surprisingly quickly, but Tony wasn’t going to argue. He took Bruce in his hand, gripping firmly and flicking a thumb over the head, and Bruce’s eyes practically rolled back in his head. “Merlin, Tony, if you do that I won’t last long enough to fuck you,” Bruce told him breathlessly, making Tony grin.

“The way you’ve been all month, you could probably go four rounds and still be ready for more. Let me do this, Bruce,” he pleaded, shimmying down his friend, his intentions obvious. Bruce’s eyes went wide, and he growled, the sound rumbling his chest. Tony thought it was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

“Christ, Tony, you’re gonna kill me,” he declared, and Tony chuckled, tongue darting out to taste Bruce’s head.

“But what a way to go, huh?” He winked, then wasted no time in taking as much of Bruce in his mouth as he possibly could, being careful to keep his teeth covered by his lips. He really, really didn’t want to mess up. By the sounds Bruce was making, he was definitely enjoying it. Tony hummed around the other Ravenclaw’s cock, reaching to fondle Bruce’s balls as he sucked and licked somewhat sloppily, trying to find a rhythm. Despite his many dates over the years, he’d never actually gone this far. Until now, the most he’d done with a guy was an awkward hand-job in the prefects’ bathroom, and his experience with girls was just making out and that one time he’d been allowed to grope boobs. He knew Bruce had never so much as kissed someone, keeping his walls up so high due to his wolf problem and anger issues, and felt a little bad about throwing him in the deep end. But it would make him feel better, and all he had to do for now was lie back and enjoy it. One of his hands was fisted in Tony’s hair, guiding him through his rhythm, and Tony felt like he could come just from the noises Bruce was making. Damn, that growling was hot.

“Tony, close,” Bruce gasped, obviously expecting Tony to pull away and bring him off with his hand. But Tony merely took him as deep as he could stand it, swallowing around him, and with a loud cry that sounded almost like a howl, Bruce came straight down the back of Tony’s throat. The genius tried not to splutter, but some of it dribbled down his chin before he could get himself under control, and he swallowed thickly, pulling off of Bruce’s spent cock and looking up. Bruce groaned lowly at Tony’s hooded eyes and the drop of pearly white liquid clinging to his chin, tugging him up into a fierce kiss. His hand reached down, gripping Tony, and it didn’t take long before Bruce felt a hot splash on his chest and stomach, and Tony was moaning loudly into his mouth. Coming down from their highs, they breathed harshly, pulling away to look at each other.

“Best idea I have _ever_ had. Merlin, why didn’t we do this sooner?” Tony asked, uncaring of the stickiness between them as he leant against Bruce’s chest.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad we did,” Bruce replied, biting his lip. “Give me a minute or two, I’ll be ready to fuck you like I promised.” Indeed, he was already starting to stir a little, and Tony’s eyebrows shot up.

“Okay, super werewolf refractory period. Got it.” Smirking, he allowed Bruce to flip them over so Tony was the one on his back, Bruce hovering over him. “Fuck me, honeybear.” Bruce snorted at the nickname, even as Tony summoned condoms and lube from his dresser drawer. He wouldn’t lie; he’d been planning this for a while now. He’d known Bruce would crack eventually. 

.-.-.

When Tony awoke in the morning, it was to a pleasantly sore ass, and a warm hardness under him. That warm hardness turned out to be Bruce’s naked chest, and he grinned when he remembered the night before. Bruce had been amazing. Far more gentle than Tony had expected him to be, but once he’d been assured that he wasn’t going to hurt Tony… damn. He still wasn’t in love with Bruce that way, but he’d be very happy to help relieve the tension anytime Bruce wanted until either of them found an actual partner they wanted to be with. “Stop thinking so loud,” Bruce groaned, voice hoarse. Tony jumped, having not realised he was awake.

“Sorry. Morning, sleepyhead,” he added with a smile, pressing a kiss to Bruce’s cheek. “Thank you, by the way.” Bruce snorted, squeezing Tony gently around the waist.

“Me? I should be the one thanking you. I feel so much better now it’s unbelievable,” he replied.

“See, I told you weeks ago you should’ve let me help. There’s no shame in it, Bruce,” Tony assured him, fingers running through his friend’s chest hair. 

“Still, thank you,” Bruce murmured, forehead pressing to Tony’s. His expression grew serious, and Tony raised an eyebrow. “What does this mean for us? I mean, the sex was fantastic, and I love you, but… not in the way that makes me want to date you.” Tony let out a small sigh of relief, having worried that Bruce would want a relationship. 

“Ditto. While I’m totally not adverse to doing that again whenever you need it, I really just want to be your best friend that you sometimes have awesome hot sex with.” Bruce laughed, stroking Tony’s hair.

“Sounds like a good deal to me. Friends with benefits?” Tony held up a fist, and Bruce obligingly bumped it. 

“But hey, let me know if you start wanting to actually date someone and we’ll go back to not sleeping together, yeah? I don’t want to hold you back,” Tony added. Bruce nodded, smiling slightly.

“Same goes for you. Though as your friend with benefits, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop dating random people just for the hell of it; the wolf hates it when you smell like bimbo,” he added wryly. Tony laughed, nodding.

“Deal. I was going to do that anyway; it’s really not as fun as I thought it would be, and it’s way too much effort to actually attempt a relationship just so I can make out with people.” Bruce’s eyebrows rose, his hand pausing in Tony’s hair.

“Only make out? You mean you weren’t sleeping with them?” he asked, surprised. Tony shook his head.

“Shouldn’t you have been able to smell if I was?” Bruce blushed, sheepish.

“I just figured you were taking showers and using scent-removing charms because you didn’t want me to know,” he explained. Tony snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Bruce, trust me; when I sleep with someone that isn’t you, you’ll know about it. But, uh, no; you were my first,” he added hesitantly. Bruce’s eyes went wide at the revelation.

“Why me? Why not one of them; I don’t doubt plenty of them were willing,” he reasoned, but Tony shook his head once more, wishing he’d never said anything.

“I wanted my first time to be with someone I trusted. As sappy as it sounds, I wanted it to be somewhat special. I didn’t want it to be some awkward quickie with someone I don’t really like and don’t trust enough to let them know I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted softly. Bruce was silent for a long moment, hand still running through Tony’s hair, and the genius hated how vulnerable he felt.

“Then thank you,” Bruce said finally. “For trusting me with that. And for making my first time amazing, too.” He pressed a brief kiss to Tony’s lips, smiling. “And if you want to switch next time so we can experience it both ways, that’s totally fine by me,” he added. Tony looked at him for a long moment, then grinned.

“Y’know, if I didn’t already love you in a totally platonic way, I think I’d be in love with you,” he informed him. Bruce just laughed.


End file.
